


Corrupted

by Divina_tb



Category: Baldur's Gate, Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Forgotten Realms, Planescape (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Angst, Brother-Sister Relationships, Corruption, Diary/Journal, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Half-Elves, Oral Sex, Romance, Sexual Content, Sister-Sister Relationship, Smut, Throne of Bhaal, Tieflings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-07 09:23:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14077815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Divina_tb/pseuds/Divina_tb
Summary: This is the diary/journal of Bhaalspawn Divina as she enters the final stages of her journey at the beginning of the Throne of Bhaal. Her relationship with Haer'Dalis which begun while they were still in Amn has started taking a strange toll on her soul, but she is unable to notice early enough to stop it. Both unable to communicate their feelings and needs properly to each other and both willingly or unwittingly trying to influence one another find themselves in a war of wills that leaves them both changed forever.





	1. Family

**Author's Note:**

> The story is heavily influenced by Aeryn Phoenix' excellent Haer'Dalis romance mod, which left my charname rather broken with its intensity. As such, on rare occasion certain pieces of dialogue will find themselves in the story as they were presented in the mod, albeit not always at the right chronological order. Sarevok's redemption arc also played a big role on charname's emotional development and Bioware's dialogues on that front are also incorporated in the text, sometimes altered, sometimes whole. As this is in Diary/Journal format the focus is on feelings, dialogues and relationships rather than battle action, although there is some of that as well of course. The charname knows the details of her battles after all, and does not really need to process them most of the time. What she does need to process is where her life is going and what is happening to her and her party. 
> 
> I will be the first to admit that the first few diary entries are not my best work, as I was not planning to publish them. I promise that it gets better shortly after. I hope that you will stick with me for the first (short) 9 diary entries or so, till things get better at around diary entry 10.

**Day 380, Saradush**

Half of us are now related by blood...which is a both a shock to the system and a relief at once. Imoen has always felt like a sister to me, and the confirmation of a blood bond has only made these feelings stronger, our attachment unbreakable. I can almost still feel her lips on mine as she promised me we were setting off on the final stretch of our journey to reclaim my soul. It was only a few days ago, but it feels like a lifetime away, or like an event that occurred in a dream. But now... now there is also Sarevok...

For reasons I can only begin to tentatively guess at, my wrath, my hatred are quenched. A part of my heart I'd no idea was made of solid ice melted the moment he called me ‘sister’. Even though some of our group still only barely tolerate his presence as we travel together, I can no longer imagine it any other way. Beyond curiosity and a deep wish to get to know him, I have come to understand a need for family inside me. I have them with me now: A sister, a brother, three of us joined on this weird journey that seems to have no end. Besides us, the other two constants in my life - Jaheira and sweet Minsc. Finally, the one that I no longer can live without. My sweet sparrow. My Haer'Dalis. I pray to the Gods he metes me no more pain, for his sweetness is sometimes laced with thorns that mangle my heart. 

 

**Day 382, Saradush**

We have arrived in this town a few days ago and I find myself both sickened as well as emotional. My heart swells with so much feeling to the point that I have started to wonder whether Jaheira's forced-upon-me morning potions are no longer working. This city is filled with my kin... a realization at once revolting and strangely tender. While I know that many of them would gladly kill me, my heart breaks for all those who are hunted while trying to lead a normal life.

**Day 383, Saradush**

I woke up with a start today, feeling like someone was sitting on my chest and trying to strangle me. The sounds from the city siege have taken their toll on my already frazzled nerves and I find myself wondering whether this is the end of days for us. Yes, I've been gripped with fear and panic about my life a few times before - dragons, Kangaxx and most recently, Irenicus are all occasions that immediately spring to mind. But I've never really thought my life's story might truly be coming to an end. I'd been feeling partly invincible. Now it seems the fates are all trying to catch up to me for having cheated death so many times. 

The trigger were the words of my brother... While still in the pocket plane, he mentioned that we are currently in the midst of Alaundo's prophesies. It didn't really make much of an impression on me at the time - just one more day in the life of me, no calm, no time for extended rests, just things to be done and seen to. But now it seems the message has sunk in. If this is the time of prophesy, does it really mean Father is going to claim us back into him? To rise up again at our expense? Mortal lives of fools to be spent and squandered, our blood spilled for no other reason than to bring a dead and hated God back to life? Is he really needed, Father? Is his absence so upsetting to the balance that our blood can run as though no sin has been committed just for Him to come back? Can we not be spared? Is our death the only way? Is there a part of me... a part of us that is not of him and can be kept whole while his divinity is returned to him if needs must? I wonder what Haer'Dalis would think of me, whether he would turn away in disgust, if he knew I wish to hold on to life hand tooth and nail. Something inside me hungers to linger, at all costs.

**Day 384, Saradush**

I... could it be that I have been fooling myself thinking that this Doomguard philosophy of his was starting to waver after an entire year of travelling and verbally sparring with me? Or is it just that this awful siege has triggered the insanity of the Blood War, which, I've long been suspecting, is the cause to his turn to the Doomguard Faction? Regardless of the cause, tonight was a night I felt we were almost back to square one. It was all about enjoying the destruction raining down all around us and savouring the scent of death and burning flesh that still lingers in my nose now that I am back inside and in my own room. Yes, I slipped out of his bed to seek some solitude in the hopes that I could calm my heart and mind. I say this, I say that, but must confess... It _was_ exhilarating up on that roof. It was _sensational_ to just stop thinking, to simply witness. The canon-balls of fire flew like mystical birds of fire all across the sky, sometimes meeting, mating... Just like we did, up on that roof, in what felt like the center of destruction - not even caring about being seen by the soldiers patrolling the battlements. Just who is corrupting who...? 

**Day 385, Saradush**

There is something seriously wrong with me... Every now and then I find myself paying careful attention to Haer'Dalis' grunts, groans and cries of pain in the battlefield. I listen and wait for the lust to overcome me, even as I do battle myself, concentrating hard to weave my spells against our enemies while at the same time commandeering our group and making sure no one dies. He gets hurt and I smile, I close my eyes just for a moment and think of hurting him myself just to make him produce those sounds I find so sinfully lustful. I have no shame and not even a niggle in my conscience about this. 

There is no doubt in my mind that this perversion is the direct result of the pain he caused me after Ust Natha. After so many declarations of love - no matter how indirect - after the most intimate embraces, after _telling me_ that the mere pleasures of the flesh are something anyone could provide me, and what he really wanted to do was to be allowed to love me... His subsequent coldness was enough to rip out any tiny spark of life left in my soulless body. I screamed at him that he was a **coward** back in the slums of Athkatla when he tried to approach me with concern, telling me that I must be prepared for failure, his voice quickly changing and revealing with a tremble that, no, it was _he_ that had to brace himself for the possibility of defeat - and yet still refused to bring his sentence to a conclusion. 

There was no way to comfort his suddenly fragile form, my only instinct was to lash out at him. He left me bereft of hope and any willingness to live in this world at that moment. I had been dreaming, yearning, daring to hope that perhaps I could be something else other than a Bhaalspawn. After Candlekeep he has been my one and only link to a life that approximates normalcy in some fashion. No, I don't think I would ever be able to settle down in one place. Most likely, neither would he. But I did dream of silly things, like a life on the stage together, travelling from town to town, going for the odd quest and treasure hunt. Or perhaps a life planeswalking with him, discovering all these mysterious worlds I know nothing about. Wouldn't that be a blessing? They know nothing about me too - this cursed blood of mine likely holds no meaning away from the Prime. He shattered those dreams. Walked over them. Made me cold and angry. Lonely. Determined to escape this shell that is my body, no, not in death for no man will drive me to those lengths... But soulless as I was, detachment came easy. My brother's ambition suddenly became mine. I would become Bhaal, yes, why not? Watch everyone from somewhere - where? - away from here. Away from this body that felt pain, away from this heart that was broken, away from any mortal concerns. I could amuse myself with their pains instead. Oh yes. _His_ pain in particular. For deep inside, I knew how much he loved me even if he would never admit it. I suspected he loved me when we entered Spellhold, became certain when he told me he felt as though it was his soul that had been ripped off when we finally escaped. Revelled in his love at Ust Natha and prayed time would stop forever even if I had to masquerade as a drow for the rest of my days. 

His confession before battling Jon Irenicus thus did not really surprise me. It only felt... a little too late for what had grown impossibly cold inside me. Yet most of it must have somehow thawed. By the time I woke up again, days later, at the court of Ellesime all of my love and lust for him had returned, full swing. Perhaps having a soul does this to you. I no longer cared for becoming Bhaal. I now once again find myself thinking about the little pleasant "what ifs" and "what may-bes" that might be if I manage to escape this prophesy trial with my life. The only thing that remains is this intense desire, every now and then... I promise, it is quite rare, really....to watch and listen for his pain in battle, to hurt him, to hear his agonized "Ahs!", to enjoy his little bouts of sorrow that he rarely lets others perceive. I... I can only hope that all the good I feel in my heart, the good that drives my actions in this world will counterbalance this awful wickedness, should my soul need be judged one day in the future. 

 

**Day 386, Saradush**

In truth, I have never given into the taint. Twice I lost control, the first time I earned the right to use my Father's avatar in Spellhold and once more, next I slept. My siblings want to know if it is hard to keep it under control. It isn't really, for it seems so disparate from me and yet so the same. There is no control necessary, I can just somehow _will_ the change if I so wish. My certainty may sound hollow having never tried it, but I do feel it in my body and mind in the exact same way I once knew I could call on my Father's blood to allow me to heal and protect myself. It is this same sensation that lets me know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I can become the slayer if I so wish.

Being in control while awake and in control while asleep is a whole 'nother matter however. I had another nightmare last night. I dreamt I was in the city's prison and having vanquished all vampires I turned my eyes upon my friends and family and smiled at them as I turned into the Slayer. At first, I flexed my claws and threw a ball of fire chained with lightning upon them just for fun. To my disappointment, Haer'Dalis escaped it completely unscathed, which I found only mildly amusing and a whole lot more infuriating. I proceeded to tear him apart physically, hoping for a fight, but he just let me kill him without struggle, only briefly groaning from pain and heaving a sigh of relief when the inevitable end came. The rest of the group were rooted on their spots, looking on indifferently, no one trying to stop me. 

I woke up with a start, my naked breasts covered in tiny beads of sweat and realized I was already crying mournfully for the loss of the one I love even in my sleep. With relief I looked at Haer'Dalis, alive and well next to me, sleeping peacefully, his skin glowing like an otherworldly, unripe peach in the moonlight coming in from the window. For once, my cries did not wake him up and I found myself bereft of the arms that comfort me after these awful dreams. I wondered, then, madly perhaps, whether his spark of magic, a fraction though it may be of what I possess, may have allowed him to share in my dream, whether he had insight in the cruel beast of nightmares, a cruel beast that'd just killed him. 

Frightened, weary and desperate to forget, I gently pushed him onto his back and quietly straddled him, wiping the last of my tears away. I kissed his sleeping lids, first the right one, then the left and descended my kisses down his cheek and neck, smelling the scent of sleep on his skin deeply, warding away all my anxieties. His dark eyes opened, unknowable in the soft light of the moon but he wordlessly conceded to my advances, grabbing my hips and squeezing hard at the flesh. Still making no sound, he lifted his body just enough to hide his face between my breasts, kissing my sternum then moving from one nipple to the other with a mouth so hot I thought I'd scream. A warm palm was on my lower belly next, rubbing mysterious circles on the silky skin of that spot, and I felt him awakening under my sex. Arching my back, I let myself glide back and forth on his desire, hoping to drive him mad with my wet heat and please myself in the process as my most sensitive spot came into repeated contact with his own hard warmth. 

I swear he knows my body well. Just as I was about to lose myself into pleasure, he shifted almost imperceptibly underneath me and drove himself deep inside me, our breaths quickening together after a gasp. With gentle, hot palms on my shoulder-blades he pulled himself to sit up slightly, causing me to sink deeper unto him and creating friction in places oh-so-sweet with his small mass of hair, darker and duller than the lush locks on his head. I whimpered softly as I felt the waves of pleasure radiating outwards through my core, which seemed to drive him mad with desire, thrusting hard and then letting a loud groan escape his lips before finally allowing himself to fall back onto his pillow. The last thing I remember is laying my head on his chest, unwilling to separate our joined bodies, his hand caressing my hair soothingly, his heart beating so hard that I thought it may well thump out of his chest. Then sleep took me, as wordlessly as our joining, blissfully dreamless, blissfully calm.


	2. Stuck in the Middle

**Day 387, Saradush**

Having traipsed inside the filthy, stinking sewer system looking for a way into the castle, my party was dirty, drained and healed to exhaustion and grumbly about every new plan I proposed. Truth be told, so was I, despite wanting to move and keep going. Nothing for it, we'd have to go refresh and clean ourselves before moving forward, lest low morale cost us what the scores of umber hulks and shades did not. Thankfully, Waukeen's temple right in the center of town employed fire genasi - who themselves were rather plentiful in the area due to the city's proximity to Calimshan - to keep the bathing pools at the back of the temple constantly warm. 

"See you soon then" I said, lifting my chin just a bit at the direction of Sarevok, Minsc and Haer'Dalis who were about to enter the men's side of the pools. Jaheira and Imoen followed me in the women's partition and soon we could hear armor loudly clanking on to the floor tiles from the other side. Imoen and I soundlessly dropped our robes on the recliners close to the walls, while Jaheira placed her own armor orderly on top of her knapsack and clothes, rolling her eyes at the ruckus next door. 

Armored with just washcloths and soap we slipped into the pool smiling at each other with relief. That's when we heard it. Heavy footsteps going towards somewhere and then stopping abruptly, a booming voice going: "I **do _have_** to wonder what she sees in you". "Is he _blind_?" gasped Jaheira, gesturing at the wall partition which only came up three-thirds to the ceiling. "Oh, trust me, brother knows exactly what he is doing" whispered Imoen with an expression that combined disdain with a hint of amusement. Of course. You can put the thief in a mage's clothes and teach her to weave spells, but you cannot take the thief out of the girl, nor a thief's cunning sharpened for years out of her mind. I pursed my lips, practically able to hear Sarevok flexing his enormous muscles outside the pool, imagining him looking down at Haer'Dalis in all his naked, intimidatingly large glory. The sparrow is muscular, yes, but in a rather sinewy manner, like a lithe panther. Brother on the other hand may be as close as a human has ever come to looking like a God - at least the way humans imagine Gods of war to look like - or perhaps a mythical titan. Both his height and sheer muscle mass are enough to overwhelm enemies at a glance. He is not a Deathbringer for nothing. I sank my face halfway into the water, my cheeks flushing red with anger, something inside me trembling with outrage.

I have no idea what Haer'Dalis thought while looking at my brother, for no answer came from his lips. Then, a soft splash - yes my brother is also graceful despite his ridiculous height and weight - and Sarevok was in the pool. "Bhaal likes them _pretty_ I guess" he drawled on, clearly trying to get a rise out of Haer'Dalis but irking Minsc instead: "Divina is NOT Bhaal!". Truly, brother, what depths will you sink to? I thought. "Oh, I don't know" I heard Haer'Dalis answer in the low slightly mocking voice I'd grown to know only too well. "Perhaps I was just the only piece of meat available at a time of hunger, dear brother?" _Brother_?! Oh I could just see brother's heckles rising. "Why, you little piece of..." "ENOUGH!" I screamed over my brother's low growl. "Enough or I will burn this place down with a meteor swarm and Waukeen be damned for she lives no more and I just want some REST." Finally, some silence. "Do you understand me, Sarevok? If you pull one of these stunts again..." My voice grew quieter: "No. Just don't make me do this, or say this, alright? Just stop..." 

**Day 389, Saradush**

Trust Imoen to plant horrible images you can't quick forget in your mind. At Melissan's mention of the fact that Yaga-Shura is a fire-giant Bhaalspawn, she just _had_ to evoke a mental image of the mating union that led to his conception. Thanks sis! There ain't enough soap in the realms to wash that picture out of our brains! 

But back to what's really important... Gromnir lies dead at my feet, not that I had the choice of diplomacy. He attacked us on sight. The battle was intense, but not as hard as I'd expected. Yaga-Shura sounds like is going to be the real problem: Melissan claims that he is immune to weapons, projectiles and even magics of any kind. Sheesh. I joked to Sarevok that maybe he is wrong for the second time - surely an invincible sibling may well be the one who the prophecies center around? He did not think me amusing, just grunted that the avatar speaks for itself and I should just keep my eyes on the prize. Whatever that prize might be, I did not ask and he didn't offer. 

**Day 390, North Forest**

We had our first taste of fire giants today and it was not fun. They hardly respond to magic, making me feel quite impotent and angry. Usually I revel in the power granted to me, the spark I've fought to grow into who I have become. Today made me re-evaluate. Am I really a demi-God or just a vessel for a little bit of divinity? Nobody knows, except perhaps my brother, but he has been tight-lipped since joining us and his promises for information have borne no fruit. I'm either betrayed or he's waiting for something, Gods know what. 

He bore the brunt of it today and I panicked, he almost died. My heart is foolish and childish, for I've already grown attached to him as a brother. I do not want to lose him. It is strange, because I usually do have an appetite for revenge and have an ugly tendency to take sick pleasure in punishing those that have wronged me. But either I am changing, or he is a special case because he is family, perhaps both. Regardless, for the first time today I felt guilt that Jaheira, Minsc and Sarevok bear the brunt of the damage no matter who we come up against. They are constantly in the thick of things, while I, as a spellweaver stay back and away from the offensive sprays of blood, flying dismembered appendages and rolling heads. There's not a single scar on my skin - same goes for Haer'Dalis and his mad dance in the battlefield, which, combined with his spells keeps him safe. Imoen has a large scar running down her face, starting from the top of her right brow down to her cheekbone. That's from her thieving days - nowadays she stays back with me, weaving magic in the air. But those three, those three have it rough. I wonder what makes them stick by my side sometimes, seeing as I bathe them in blood every day. 

**Day 391, Watcher's Keep**

I balked at the idea of sharing even the tiniest bit of my soul with Sarevok when he requested a second chance at life. No, not because it was _him_ but because I simply couldn't part with even a single sliver of it, not after what Irenicus had done to me. I had never felt so wretched in my life, never so miserable, never so lost to despair. The idea of giving any of it away willingly made me retch with nausea, made me furious enough to kill, or simply run away as far away as I could from all of those making impossible demands upon me day after cruel day.

Imoen saw it, she knows me best after all. She... she took my place, offered up her essence instead. Sweet Imoen said she would lay her life down for me if the need ever arose and willingly allowed our brother to rip a part of what I'd fought long and hard to return to her. Part of me felt I deserved it. Voices in my head screamed that I cannot make any more sacrifices for this girl, not after losing my own soul in the process of saving her. Not after going after her soul first. Not after everything I'd sacrificed for her. Yet other voices screamed just as loud, raging against my fears, no, no, no, how could I live with myself if I let someone else take my place in something so horrible. Something so wretched that I could not even entertain its thought. But I had lost too much already to be ready to sacrifice more. I felt I might just go mad or wish to die instead, and just stood by and watched as he took it from her, placating her with words about her own sacrifice which would never be forgotten, true words that made me feel like a villain regardless. 

She recovered rather quickly and seems no different than before. Today however, as we approached Watcher's Keep where I've decided to make a detour, I suddenly heard her asking him what it felt like exactly, having her soul in his body. Not being satisfied with his original evasive responses, Imoen pushed a little bit too hard for comfort and Sarevok responded in his usual way, that is, with the subtlety of an enraged Cambion. He revealed intimate details of her torture at Irenicus' hands, spoke about her insecurities, insecurities I've had some inkling about, and an unbearable loneliness and unrequited longings I never even suspected. Clearly, Imoen's river runs deep, deeper than even I, her sister, can tell - and now there is a person that knows her better than me, which makes me feel sad and lonely. And yet, as uncomfortable as all his revelations were for Imoen, nothing dark or unsettling bubbled to the surface. I... re-reading some of my past entries, I cannot help but wonder what he would have made of my soul's sliver and the little flecks of diamond-hard darkness wedged within its light. I might not have been grateful enough for what she gave up to save my sanity, but I certainly am now. 

**Day 392, Watcher's Keep**

There's evil in this place apparently, and we seem to have been drawn to it by Helm's Watchers, calling out to me in silent prayer for salvation from a task they feel is beyond them. Having received the necessary items from them to enter the keep, I decided to descend and have a walk next to the water, take a breather if you will, before heading into another dark and dank place where light seems to struggle to reach. Perhaps it is the half-elven part of me, but I do need these moments of solitude in nature to ground myself, though must admit I am happiest in the hustle and bustle of cities, surrounded by people, their stories, their wares, their beauty.

It was not long before Haer'Dalis approached me on the sandy banks to wordlessly offer a flower, beautiful even as it was dying. It was instantly clear that not all was well with my tiefling, quite the contrary in fact. I've hardly ever seen him so sad, so pained. I struggled to understand his thoughts, but he was as cryptic as ever. I have no idea what impending doom he is sensing, nor whether it is imagined or real, but as he painted a mirror image of the blossom on my wrist with his magic I felt a strong sense of allegory from my poet and could not shake the feeling he was referring to us in all his pained expressions about endings and the hopelessness of it all. "It will fade as soon as I let go" he informed me, eyes lowered. "Then don't let go." "Ah, my love... If only it were that simple. The only thing I can do is cast a cantrip to make it last a few weeks longer..." 

Every rose has its thorn they say, but by the Gods and all that is holy, mine seems to be full of them. There was no trace of dissonance between the Helm Watchers' soft singing that resounded across the forest and my bard's deep sadness. The certainty of the inevitability he speaks of, combined with the soft, melodic songs of the Helm Watchers filled my heart with poison. It felt like someone was wringing my very soul like a wet, dirty washcloth and as though my heart was gripped by a cold claw. The polarity between his impassioned declarations of love and devotion and his sudden, unexpected bouts of sadness and doom-thinking have once again exacted a heavy toll on my heart and body. I feel positively exhausted. This relationship is equal measures agony and ecstasy.

* * *

I slipped out from my bedroll wrapping my robe around me tightly and tiptoed close to the dying embers of our campfire. I traced the shape of the bloom on my wrist and, struggling to catch a better glimpse of it, I threw an arrow of fire spell in the campfire, attempting to bring it back to life by force. It glittered green, then yellow and red before catching fire, and as the darkness dissipated somewhat I heard the heavy footsteps of my brother behind me.

Uninvited, he plopped himself beside me on the log, close enough for his arm to touch mine. "You need to dump the fool bard" he said. I froze at his words, staring unblinkingly at the fire, waiting for him to continue. "You can see it now, right? That I was right all along, that he is a distraction that cannot be allowed to continue. Look at what he has done to you, this... this..." his face scrunched up in disgust and disdain "this _inferior_ creature."

"Go back to bed, Sarevok. This is none of your business" was all I could muster, for I too was thinking that perhaps I _should_ dump the joy of my life because this much pain would kill me surer than any prophecy, surer than any blade or spell, surer than any mad sibling drunk with the promise of power. I was exhausted from feeling either inebriated with the immeasurable happiness of a life shared with him - a height of emotion I never even knew possible - or like an empty broken shell, an emotional low worse than the prospect of death. 

"But it is my business. I chose to follow you because I see in you what I could not become. You have it all..." He paused for a second, swallowing hard, his eyes confused and unfocused. "I _will_ help you reach your rightful place". At this, he suddenly grabbed my hand, kissing the fingertips slowly one by one while looking straight into my eyes with unexpected fervor. "I offered before and I offer it again: I'll gladly swear fealty to you. Let me help you. You _will_ become Bhaal. I will be your right hand. Your brother and servant. Let us wreak havoc together dear sister. Nobody else can do it. But you can. And I want nothing more than to be part of it. Let us claim immortality together. Take me with you. I'll be your Deathbringer." "Are you **_insane?!_** " I hissed, smacking his hand away. "So _this_ has been your plan?" I bristled. "I don't _want_ this, do you understand me? I don't want this! I want to be free! Free from the insane motherfuckers after my life, free from the weight of expectations, free from suspicion, free to live my fucking life." 

I looked behind my shoulder, where I could hear soft mumbles and the sound of bodies sitting up. Sure enough, my explosion had woken up all of them. Sarevok grabbed me painfully from the wrist and dragged me away, further into the forest, away from their eyes and ears. "Then tell me this little sister, is it for him? Are you throwing everything away for him?" I let out a maniacal, mirthless laughter. "Oh you don't know how wrong you are Sarevok. You don't even understand me one bit, brother." I paused, shaking, my stomach clenching. "If anything... he is the only one that has ever even made me consider trying to take Father's place. You see..." I continued, letting out a bitter little laugh, "Bhaal doesn't seem to like pain much. It seems to fuel some infernal wrath and emptiness that seeks to destroy". "You speak as if you know His will and mind, but make no mistake sister, it is _you_ who cannot stand pain, it is _your_ wrath that's being stoked. Well good. The bard stays. He is clearly a positive influence on your life and I can see how you will start seeing things my way sooner or later". "Perhaps _you_ will start seeing things _my_ way brother" I spat out in retort. "Oh-hoh? And what is your way dear sister?" "Let's just go back to bed, please" I said in a near whisper, rushing ahead of him, no longer knowing how to answer. 

I slipped into our connected bedrolls soundlessly, only to find the tiefling wide awake and on his side, propped high enough on his elbow to look at my face searchingly, his features grim. I was about to say something when he pressed an unusually rough kiss on my lips and I felt a quick hand first untying my robe, next seeking entrance between my thighs with urgency. A gentle stroke and a rough bite on my neck: "You are so wet... so slick... Is it me, my raven, or your brother's kiss on your fingertips that's gotten you like this?" More thorns, more poison. I lay still, not quite knowing what to say, my desire waxing and waning alternatively from the thoughts racing into my mind and his nimble fingers stroking me, entering me. I felt him untying the laces of his pants, swiftly pulling them down and kicking them away inside the bedcovers. His breath had become ragged, quick and shallow. "Stop it, Haer'Dalis, the others are only a few feet away" "I won't stop." His hands pinned my wrists next to my head on the thin bedroll, his bodyweight shifting op top of me, then stopping to hover just inches above me as he caught sight of my eyes. He let out a long sigh, his ragged breathing starting to slow and softly touched his forehead on mine, then gently pressed the tips of our noses together. With eyes closed he whispered: "Please...don't..." More unfinished sentiments, more half-spoken feelings. Perhaps more surprising is my belief that one day I'll break through his walls. "I'll be quiet", I said softly, my heart melting once again as his pleading words sunk into me and I wrapped my legs around him, driving him deep inside me, embracing him tightly. 

**Day 393, Watcher's Keep**

I am ready to leave this place and return another day to fight on. Two levels down and we were all exhausted and spent. But it is not our exhaustion that drives us away from this place, rather the pressing urgency of Saradush' siege. The more I linger, the more people die. I can no longer tell which of the dangers presented before me, like terrible meals at a macabre dinner should be dealt with first. An ancient evil, threatening more than just a city? An evil strong enough for a God to step in and get his hands dirty, as Haer'Dalis put it? Or a city under siege, filling with the stench of death and decay more and more with each day that passes? I hope I am making the right decision, but having seen a little of the Keep I have faith in my own understanding of magic and Haer'Dalis' vast knowledge of lore to trust our estimation that the wards will still hold strong for a while longer.

Off we went towards the mountains, the sparrow's fingers seeking mine all day on the road, interlaced and woven as one. I need not write he hasn't spoken a word of last night.


	3. When the Past Catches Up

**Day 394, Forest of Mir**

I am not even sure the events of this day should be chronicled, for they were simply too gut-wrenching to recount. A wraith masquerading as Gorion took turns ripping our hearts to pieces, knowing exactly how to twist the knife for each and every one of us. As if the Dopplegangers at Baldur's Gate and Candlekeep were not enough... How many shades wearing loved ones' faces must I encounter? How many loving memories must they defile? Durlag's story has gained even more poignance for me after all these experiences. 

Long dead priests and mages of Father awaited us in what turned out to be an old temple to His name. "The Master has returned!" screeched a skeletal priest triumphantly, before seeing right through me and labelling me an abomination to be disposed of. Yet, it did bring home how close to Him my essence is, if even his priests confused me for their erstwhile master - for I am sure I am not the only spawn to pass by these ruins, and what is certain, is that Yaga-Shura has grown up here, among these very stones. Clearly, there is something separating me from the other children, or at least most of them. Perhaps Sarevok has a point about the avatar and the pocket plane... But if that is so... are the fates inescapable? I... I could not bear the wraith's words from Gorion's mouth to come true. I couldn't bear to disappoint the only father I've ever known, the one who loved me selflessly, the one who died for me. No. I must not think this way. I must focus on the good I do, and what my existence has meant for Baldur's Gate, my descent into hell to save the lands after Dragonspear, Suldanessellar... It cannot have been for naught... It cannot have been that this was a path of evil. No, I cannot accept this. Still... the wraith's words have rattled me - an emotion I see mirrored in my companions' haunted eyes. 

The sparrow got hit particularly bad. He got to hear how Saalyn, his sister, has faced a fate worse than death, having been held responsible for the troupe's offensive production in the absence of Ms. Raelis and her band of actors. Not even poor Minsc got away scot free: 'Gorion' told him he had failed his dajemma, telling him that the walls of Rashemen would forevermore be closed to him. I held and rocked him in my arms for nigh an hour after the battle before I could calm him down. Finally, after his tears had dried up he simply said: "Boo told me that man was not your Gorion. That did not make his words less true. Minsc will kick evil's butt away from home forevermore." In the end it was Imoen who managed to make Minsc smile again. "Minsc, I also want a hamster" she said, trying to scratch the little rodent's head. "Oh, I'm sorry, Boo is not for sale!" "No silly! A hamster of my own! Though I doubt I'd be as good at taking care of it as you are! He looks to be such comforting company though, sure looks like it'd make me feel good..." "Oh, yes, then I can definitely recommend one!" said Minsc, proceeding to explain all the ins-and-outs of proper space-hamster care. 

**Day 395, Marching Mountains**

Despite the immense dangers inside, the residence of the fire giants was awe-inspiring. I've never seen such high ceilings, never seen such glossy floors. The heat was unbearable, especially during battle, but camping outside afterwards to rest was intensely cold and we all huddled around the fire together. Our conversation was drying up as we were all getting sleepy, but suddenly Imoen piped up: 

"What's it like, Sarevok? Being dead." I knew her enough to know her curiosity, just like the Sparrow's, was like an itch in desperate need of a fix but Sarevok's eyes glowed with rage: "Shouldn't you know that better than anyone, fool?! There's no way a weakling like you has not been resurrected at least a dozen times." Imoen's eyes changed from gentle curiosity to barely disguised contempt. She was about to launch a verbal strike, I could tell, but Jaheira interrupted in her no-nonsense voice: "The only one that has known this, Sarevok, is me. And that was before I joined up with your sister." She clearly took Sarevok's dumbfounded glare as licence to continue: "Divina has not let any of us experience the coldness of death, the pain that comes from being dragged back from blissful detachment to the perplexity and strain of life." 

A low whistle of surprise escaped Haer'Dalis' lips: "Spoken like a true Doomguard, my Ptarmigan." Jaheira ignored him, continuing: "That dissonance, that incongruity, between not wishing to part from life when living, while never wishing to return once gone, the endless cycle of regret that most of our sort have to face... She's never allowed it." 

"What is this, sister?" Sarevok seemed quite shaken. "Did Father grant you some power over his domain I have never even heard of?". I snorted with laughter, despite myself and the seriousness of the conversation. "Nothing so grand as all that, I assure you. Just a little extra studying to evolve my Wizard's Eye spell further. It was one of the first things I learned... after you... after you took my father away from me. I vowed to not let anyone else out of my sight again. A little tweak to the spell and I get a bird's eye view of the battlefield, focusing on my companions as well as myself, as if I am outside my flesh and in it at the same time. With that view I can shout and steer everyone at the right spot, towards the right enemies, while weaving spells from the background. I can tell at a glance what is needed, what spells Imoen should cast, whether this sparrow should dance in fury towards the enemy or in a self-protective pirouette... Whether Jaheira should lay her hands on Minsc to heal him. That is all. It is not faultless and every single time I worry that I will lose the bet with myself. Every single time I wonder if I will let one of them down. But so far... thank the Gods... that has not come to pass." 

"I... I see." replied Sarevok in a way that made me wonder whether he saw at all. He rose stiffly to his feet. "I think I'll go to rest ahead of you today."

**Day 396, Forest of Mir**

Yaga-Shura's adoptive mother was filled with sentiment for her son the moment her heart was returned to her - we had to kill her, for she attacked with all manner of corrupted woodland beings called to her aid in a last effort to steal Yaga-Shura's now cold heart back from me and save the boy that had betrayed her. I cannot even contemplate what kind of druid would have become drawn enough to Bhaal to serve him as her God. The tiefling was scribbling madly at a corner of the temple ruins, his blades tossed to the side still dirty with blood and ichor. He lives for tragedy, that one, and the story of Yaga-Shura and his mother certainly had tragedy aplenty. Jaheira was pensive too, softly discussing with Minsc what was to be done about the few woodland creatures remaining in the area. Clearly, they could not stay there. The dark druid's influence had perverted not only the nature around the temple, but most of the wildlife as well. 

"You have the most beautiful hair I've ever seen, sis! But I've told you before, haven't I?" She mused, giggling. Imoen's words startled me. She always had a knack for trying to inject humor and irrelevant pleasantries while in difficult situations, but this trait had waned considerably since her abduction by Irenicus. This was entirely out of the blue and I wondered if maybe, just maybe, she was coming back to her old self again. "Even in this gloomy place where daylight doesn't reach, it shines like the finest of silk," she continued. My straight blonde hair reaches down my waist and I wear it loose, even in battle. Its radiant golden hue, coupled with my bright green eyes which are unusually flecked with silver, has left me no doubt that my mother was a sun elf. I've tried to imagine the indignity of a sun elf - known for their haughtiness - being assaulted by a dark God of murder. I've wondered whether she felt so defiled she had to flee to the arms of a human - Gorion - afterwards, perhaps feeling herself undeserving of her sun-elven community. Futile thoughts, I know, for it is likely I will never know, seeing as the man who held all the answers is long gone.

I felt a strand of my hair being tugged and turned around to find my brother gingerly holding the ends in his enormous hand. "I am surprised you haven't singed it with one of your fireballs". I looked at him quizzically. "I am careful." He let go of the strand and gave me a look. "More careful with your hair than with your heart." "That's true," I said, returning his look with an eyebrow cocked upwards: "I've started caring for you, after all, brother" and turned on my heel to leave, taking some satisfaction in his petrified expression. 

**Day 397, Pocket Plane**

Some coincidences are vile. Only yesterday I found myself wondering about my mother, her nature, her relationship with my foster father and just today the answers, at least some of them, were revealed to me in the most hair-raising manner. 

After Yaga-Shura's defeat, we were forcibly dragged to the Pocket Plane by the Solar, where she proceeded to show me visions of both my mother and Gorion, an apparently necessary step in what she calls my 'education'. In her visions, Alianna, my mother, was shown to be a priestess of Bhaal, eagerly conceiving me with my Father in order to then slay me in his name. Gorion spoke of my rescue... leaving others awaiting the same fate - including Sarevok - behind. My head, nay, my entire body was pounding with rage and confusion after the spectres as well as the Solar left the plane.

"JAHEIRA" I bellowed with an infernal voice I'd never suspected I was capable of. "No more of your Harper secrecy nonsense. You will tell me now. Speak or leave my company forevermore, for I can tolerate this no longer. You know I keep this always on my person". With trembling hands, I produced the letter Gorion had left to me in Candlekeep, detailing how my mother was his one-time lover and fellow Harper. "How can she have been a priestess of Bhaal Jaheira? She was a Harper and Sun Elf for crying out loud! How could she have been accepted by the Bhaalists? Who is lying? The Solar? My father? Were his last words to me in this letter all falsehoods???" "Hush child. I will break the silence. You deserve this much... and more, if I could give." She laid a gentle hand on my trembling body and I found myself relaxing under her kind touch. 

"Your mother was indeed a Sun Elf and a Harper, loved by Gorion - an affection she returned only hesitantly after many long missions together. Your... conception... Divina... I... I am sorry. It was _planned_ by the Harpers. Just as the Silver Lady disguised us as drow to enter Ust Natha, so another Silver working with us disguised Alianna, your mother, to help her infiltrate the Bhaalist cult. She was a powerful mage cleric, faithful to Corellon Larethian, and as such not only perfect to play the part of a priestess, but also to lend you those powers of magic passed down through her kind. Your magical prowess is no coincidence. Your draw upon both the divine as well as your Sun Elven heritage. Did you know, child, that a single Sun Elf mage can ward an entire city against harm? We... we wanted... needed such a child. Only such a child from such a union, with this much power and carefully molded under our tutelage could give us a modicum of hope of overturning the prophecies of Bhaal's rebirth. Alianna agreed to take on this role as a most loyal Harper. She agreed to be defiled by Bhaal, agreed to have her life taken from her by Gorion, the man that was her lover... All to bring you to life among us and into our waiting arms. What was not part of the plan..." Jaheira paused, letting out a throaty sound, almost like a little chuckle, "what was not part of the plan, was that Gorion grabbed you and hid you away with him in Candlekeep, effectively stopping his missions with the Harpers while raising you. He kept you to himself, out of our reach, leaving us unable to have any say in your upbringing. I cannot tell you why. Perhaps he loved you at first sight. Perhaps because you were all that remained of his Alianna. Perhaps he grew to hate us, for making him take his one love's life. Perhaps a bit of everything." She paused to take a breath, her voice growing quieter. "If it means anything... I am sorry. It is true that when Khalid and I joined you, you were but a Harper tool in our eyes... a weapon to be used in battle. But we grew to love you from our first month together, Divina. And though he can no longer say it... I will speak for him and say he loved you too, so very much, my own Khalid." 

I could do nothing but listen and nod, numbing myself in the way the countless betrayals had taught me to do. With slightly glazed over eyes I saw my sparrow perched on a ledge in the corner looking at me, his features creased with concern, his eyes ablaze with worry.


	4. Awareness

**Day 399, Watcher's Keep**

We've been on the road for a couple of days, finally reaching Watcher's Keep today to try and finish what we started. Our group has been acting as though the events at the Pocket Plane did not occur. Only Sarevok keeps stealing glances at me with eyes I've not known on his face. I guess my admission to the Solar that I feel a debt is owed to him for being left behind and that I could have just as easily been in his place were I not saved by Gorion have taken him aback. Still, he says nothing, only watches me as if I am a curious animal he has never encountered before. 

We set up camp outside the Keep and I asked Haer'Dalis to walk with me a spell. Had he known what my conversation would be he mightn't have joined me, but I only know this now, with the wisdom offered by hindsight. I asked him how he felt about the spectre of his sister and what she had said outside the temple at the Forest of Mir. He dismissed everything as the "obvious lies of a wraith" his beautiful face as calm as ever. "I don't believe you" I said. "And why, might I ask?" Calmness again, nary a hint of indignation in his voice. "Because you have a habit of hiding your emotions, even from yourself my love." "What would you have me do? Fall down and weep? Do you want to see me hurt? Do you wish to see me gnashing my teeth and trembling with anger and pain?" He seemed to be trembling with both even as we spoke. I didn't know whether to regret bringing it up or to rejoice, even a little bit, for breaking yet another wall in fortress Haer'Dalis. "I'm only trying to help" I offered meekly. "I know," said Haer'Dalis after a sigh "and I am being patently ungrateful, aren't I?" We sat down on a large rock worn smooth by the river. "Those words cut me like a rusty serrated knife my Divina... They tore through my defences as though they were tattered pieces of silk. They will haunt me forever. But what can I do? I refuse to believe a word of it! They were lies meant to hurt us, nothing more!" I believed the same, but like a bloodhound on the scent, I was not about to let go - not when I was so close to ram that fortress door down and step within, no matter how dark the interior. "Or is this one of the lies you keep telling yourself to keep yourself from facing your fears, your needs, your pains and wants, _anything_ really that makes you vulnerable?" I pressed on. "What is it you wish to hear? That I fear my carelessness might have cost my sister something of far greater value than her life? Yes! I do! And with that confession _nothing_ changes! There is -- No. I will not. Nothing more will I say on the matter." His gorgeous eyes - the darkest of blues, verging on black, flecked with bright blue sapphire speckles - looked at me with silent pleading to stop my inquisition. I embraced him tightly and went with him back to the campsite, neither of us able to join the others for food. 

Tonight, Haer'Dalis sleeps with his back to me, not even a word of good night spoken between us. It dawned on me sometime this eve that his mind may be a little touched... by the Blood War, the emotional torment of his father, the servitude his mother placed him under as part of a cultural heritage alien to her child. I've... I've always known he was hurt, always known his eyes'd seen a lot, always known he had grown layers and layers of protective armor around himself... Felt relatively certain that all this led him to the Doomguards... But never yet, foolishly, naively, never yet did I wonder whether he was damaged. Damaged in ways I cannot repair. Huh...listen to me, what a fool I must be, all this talk of being a Godling must have gotten to my head, thinking it is in my power to change a man's psyche. My heart is dark and heavy as I lie on my stomach, writing these words in the candlelight. Still... broken or whole I cannot let go of this sparrow, unless it wishes to fly away from me. He's said before that he doesn't deserve me, and a small angry part in my belly agrees, while my poor heart feels only despair at the prospect of life without him. For good or ill I've made up my mind: I'll see this to the end. Either my love will win and bring the light unto him, or he will infect me with his disease and poison my heart for good. I accept it all, I'll see this to the end. It is a fight to the death my sparrow, I'll kill your shadow or you'll take the light from my soul. 

**Day 402, Watcher's Keep**

We have been wandering the maze-like third level of the Keep for a few days now, delayed by frequent stops for rest and healing. The rooms are full of Tanar'ri and Baatezu, great numbers of them somehow having been drawn in from their eternal Blood War struggle. The sparrow sleeps uneasily next to me, his face pressed against my chest. He often wakes up in cold sweat from nightmares and all I can do is wordlessly hold him. I don't ask, I don't probe... Touch and comfort are all I can provide in this nightmare he seems to be re-living. 

**Day 403, Watcher's Keep**

Tieflings. We've had to kill two groups of Tieflings, drawn here from the Blood War where they were apparently placed into servitude, if their few words before attacking us were anything to go by. If it bothers the sparrow to kill his own kind he hasn't let it show, though with Tieflings any notion of "own kind" is muddled at best considering their broad and varied heritage. 

We have lost all sense of time in here and it is unclear to us whether it is daylight or nightfall. I can only guess how many days it's been by the times we sleep, even if those have increased a quite bit due to exhaustion and need for recovery. During one such respite earlier today, I took guard duty while the others slept and Haer'Dalis followed me and slid next to me in the corner where I was sitting cross-legged. 

"Do you enjoy hunting and killing, my love?" 

It took me a moment to recover from his question. It's been quite some time since I last received such a probing query and it brought back memories of Amn and our first months together, where every conversation was peppered with little probes that - either with humor or gentleness - slowly hooked answers that laid my thoughts bare. Was he still writing that... book of his? And if so, how did that make me feel? I suddenly became aware that I was not answering him and the pause between question and answer was starting to become awkward, if not telling. 

"Err..." My mind scrambled for a response. I looked into his dark eyes and finding only curiosity there decided to settle for the truth. 

"Yes." 

His face did not change. 

"You have to understand, I would never be able to kill an innocent. But... I... a life of adventure pleases me. Stamping out things that go against my own moral code... even when that code does not comply with law and order... It gives me a thrill. Going against dangerous creatures that terrorize the land, it... gives me a sense of power and accomplishment that is a bit addictive." 

"A bit, ey?"

"Alright. A lot. I relished killing those dragons in Amn. Was ridiculously pleased none of you stole my kills. Happy you were all thrown back in terror from their gaze. I loved destroying their famous magical defences and tearing them to bits. And they deserved it, so why the hell not?"

"Mayhap one of them was the last of their kind?" 

I sighed, exasperated. "Well, then they shouldn't have been stealing children and land or serving Irenicus, or a crazed shadow lord that turned people into shades! Too bad for them!" In truth, his words did niggle.

Haer'Dalis nodded thoughtfully and produced a skin of wine from his bag, taking a large swig and offering it to me in turn. 

"Hey, where did you get that?" A smile, a wink and a playful finger on the tip of my nose: "Emergency rations."

"And what of your favorite spells?" The questioning was not over. "Oh, I don't know, it changes all the time. Fireballs and most evocations appeal to me most. I love rushing ahead of you to scout and take out danger with the flick of a finger. Sometimes it's necromancy, stealing a kill from Sarevok or Minsc with the instant touch of death makes me giggle. Controlling a powerful being like a Planetar has its own appeal too, though the kills do not bring me the same sense of satisfaction. It is no wonder my tutors at Candlekeep could not convince me to focus my efforts on one school only..." 

I stopped my blathering, aware that I had revealed too much - a part of me I'd kept to myself only. I anxiously glanced towards Imoen and Jaheira, but they were fast asleep. I looked down at my feet and took another swig of wine before offering the skin back to him and asking: "Do you hate me now?"

"My sweet raven, how could I? Chaos clings to you so beautifully. It is a marvel to witness and I, I am drawn to you like moth to a flame. Without you, I am a fire starved of oxygen. Bend me to your will, I am yours to command." 

His words sounded absolutely sincere and hollow at the same time. I tried to take the skin from him for another drink of wine but with a bardic sleight of hand he tricked my eyes and next thing I knew he had downed all of it himself. "I am sorry my raven, but I need this more than you right now."

"What is it Haer'Dalis?"

"Nothing my love. Everything is absolutely as it should be. The wheels of fate are turning, entropy is working against all that is precious... Just... just as it... just as it is wont to do. Destiny calls her creatures to her, no matter how important or mundane, no matter how adored or forgotten."

I felt anger creasing my brow, the familiar feeling of coldness snaking 'round my heart, overwhelming me. "I make my own fate. You can too."

"Do you?" He gave me a pained smile. "Who knows my wise raven, you have surprised me before. It would not be the first time this sparrow is wrong when it comes to matters relating to you.   
Come my love, come into my arms. Let us enjoy what we have now, today is all we have, just like everyone else."

I am starting to suspect the insecurity my sparrow breeds in me may only be a projection of his own... Do I really dare hope that this is the case?

**Day 404, Watcher's Keep**

The sparrow quickened his pace, catching up to me as I was moving next to the portal.

"Why did you not kill them?" he asked.

I puzzled at his question and fingered the brilliant gems on the rod I'd been about to raise to the giant portal gaping in front of me. 

"I don't understand, why should I?"

"Did you not speak of the thrill of the kill and power just the night before my dark hound?"

The tiefling was visibly unsettled, his voice a mixture of confusion and irritation. "Do you even comprehend the magic bound to that deck of cards of his? 'Tis one of the most sought-after items in the Cage, mythical in status, can make or break fortunes, the maker or breaker of dreams."

"Oh _please_ " I scoffed "If there's one thing I know, that is magic and you know it. That thing radiated power like the sun! Do you really think me a fool? I understood its value perfectly, I assure you."

The rest of our group caught up with us. "I would like to know the answer to that as well, Divina" growled Sarevok. "Whyever would you let them go? Who knows what else they had on them. And they were fiends! I thought you had no qualms about killing _fiends_!"

"Hold, the balance has to be considered properly. I like to think Divina knows this." Jaheira smiled at me encouragingly. 

"Honestly... 'twas just a whim. They were friendly enough and I don't make a habit of judging by appearances. Who cares about their treasure, power and what of it we could absorb? I played a game, I lost, they could go back home and the rod is safely returned to us. See?" I twirled the rod in my hands, brandishing it like proof. "They were fine. We are fine. Now let's move on." I glanced over at Haer'Dalis who looked less unsettled, something akin to relief softening his brow. "I care not" shrugged Imoen. 

"Boo is confused. Aren't fiends deserving of righteous butt-kicking?" Minsc looked from my face to Jaheira's and back searching for answers. I felt exhaustion washing over me and looked around for help, catching Sarevok rolling his eyes in the process. "Ah, hah! Come with me my large friend, I'll explain everything to you over a drink of... well, the only thing we have is water, but it will have to do, aye?" I shot Haer'Dalis a grateful look and raised the rod towards the portal again allowing its magic to take over my mind for but a moment so that the mysterious incantations bound to it could be spoken. 

**Day 405, Watcher's Keep**

Three levels of the keep have been secured. It is a strange feeling of solitude now that the terrors are gone, and once again, just as in Ust Natha, I find myself enjoying myself more than I probably should. The Keep now feels like a protective bubble, the worries of the outside world so far away, my friends and family close to me, the sparrow all to myself. We returned to the first level, lit the fireplaces and made fire in the kitchen stoves to warm the place up. Most of the others went outside to hunt and forage, replenish the skins of water, but I stayed in, refusing to let the outside world infect my present state of mind. Haer'Dalis stayed back with me and we moved to the library to warm up near the fireplace while waiting for the others. My eyes kept following him, taking in the view of his body in his tight leather breeches, the way he gracefully and soundlessly moved about as though barefooted even in his slouchy boots. Tired of fingering tomes and looking for interesting scripts, he finally moved towards me, removing his Melodic Chain which let out a mournful harmony as it left his body. I swear I hate that thing. It also rejoices musically every time he puts it on. 

My eyes lost him for a moment as he came behind the couch I was sitting on and gently wrapped his arms around my neck. He pressed his nose at the crown of my head and inhaled deeply. "Yes... This place smells most like you... Or is it this one?" he quizzed, nuzzling my neck, softly nipping, making the hairs at the back of my neck rise and my breasts stir into wakefulness. I tugged at his arm, urging him to come to sit next to me and when he did I cupped his cheeks in my hands, my thumbs running over his impossibly high cheekbones. "I've missed you" I whispered. His answer was a deep kiss, his probing tongue sweet and hot. Haer'Dalis' body temperature is always a few degrees higher than that of us Primes, owing to his fiendish blood, something I cannot deny is a great thrill, physically speaking. 

I tried to kiss his neck while reaching for his tunic, but it was his turn to cup my face and to smile: "Kiss me a while longer, fair raven, for I have missed not only your scent but also your heart as given to me." I enfolded him in a tight embrace, every bit of my skin wanting to communicate my affection to him. I neared my face to his and let my lips rest almost imperceptibly upon his, relishing the moment of silky, pillowy softness finding its twin. I felt him gasp softly and slipped my tongue gently between his lips in a kiss that made me lose track of time until I felt his sword-calloused fingers slipping inside my robe and grazing my nipples before cupping my breasts. A tug on the fabric belt and the knot was undone, my body bared. He stopped for a moment to drink in the sight, my chest already rising and falling faster with desire. Once again, I tried to pull off his tunic, but his head was already between my breasts, kissing the sternum and moving ever downward, laying a trail of small feathery kisses, down, down my stomach, over my belly button and then more lingeringly on my abdomen. His wet breath on my skin left me trembling with desire and I no longer moved, just laid back and left myself to his hands.

"Or maybe it is this place that smells most like you my love?" he whispered, prying my thighs open and pressing a kiss on my lower lips. I shivered and squirmed, half-tickled, half-crazed with desire for his mouth. A soft purr escaped his lips as he heard me moan at the touch of his tongue, the vibration from his purr on my sensitive skin sending new waves of pleasure through my body. "Oh this is torture, I want you Haer'Dalis" "Give this sparrow a moment to worship you my love, and I will join with you, I promise." His hands moved up my breasts as he kept gently lapping and suckling me, his tongue suddenly stiffer and faster as he felt my breasts swell and my chest heave. He stopped, taking his tunic off in one swift motion and unlacing his breeches, never breaking eye contact with me. "You are cruel" I told him, panting. "I love you," he answered, his eyes molten with yearning. He drove himself into me, his breath hot and urgent in my ear as he whispered broken phrases of passion. Our release was almost instant, our voices rising high together and ringing around the empty halls of the keep in an echo of ecstasy. 

We spent some time on the couch cradling each other, Haer'Dalis tracing idle circles on my chest and stomach before finally breaking the blissful silence: "You don't know what you do to this poor bard". I let out a sound halfway between a laughter and a sigh. "Is it rapture laced with agony?" Haer'Dalis' hands grew still. "Again, you read my mind? Or is it perhaps a jab at my condition that you've so mercilessly guessed?" This time I sighed for real. "It's only how you make me feel, Haer'Dalis." "Could this be true?" "More than you could understand without looking into my soul". Haer'Dalis sat up, slightly changing position to catch my eyes: "What is this satisfaction I feel blossom in my chest at your words? 'Tis surely madness that your shared discomfort would bring me so much pleasure." "And yet most of the time, my sparrow, I never sense even a hint of discomfort in you" I said, brow furrowed at speaking the unspoken niggle in my heart. "Mayhap it has all been but a ruse to throw you off the scent, my hound. Were you to peel away the layers of protective lies around this bard, is it impossible that you will find a fearful and fragile heart beats within my breast?" "Then I would handle your heart with great care my love, and tell you in turn that we have the same effect on one another." I said with a smile. "We share a shortcoming and that pleases you? Hah, but I feel the same... How odd." This confession seemed to exhaust him and he rapidly fell asleep on my chest. I blindly searched the floor with my fingers for my discarded robe and draped it around us to hide our nakedness from the others upon their return, then slept a spell myself.


	5. Creation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _*Charname has been through the events of Siege of Dragonspear, in case anybody is wondering what she is referring to when she talks about ending a war by going to the bowels of hell... (SoD SPOILERS in the following two sentences...)_
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> _Even though these events are not depicted in this journal, it has to be said that her subsequent capture and betrayal by much of the group she was currently travelling with has played a huge role in her emotional development. Her eventual rescue from prison by Imoen, Jaheira, Khalid, Minsc and Dynaheir in turn truly solidified those bonds, ensuring that Divina could not part with any of the friends that remained alive after Irenicus' capture._

**Day 411, Oasis**

It's been a long while since I've managed to sit and write an entry into this journal, and an even longer while still since I've had a bounty on my head. One'd thing I'd have gotten used to it by now - but no, it remains a shock every time. If this journal ever finds itself in the hands of someone other than me, then know this dear reader: One hardly ever gets thanks for trying to help. Save an entire city? Get arrested. End a war by going to the bowels of hell and back? Get arrested, be sentenced to death. Kill a freakish giant that tore out his own heart and besieged a city till nothing but waste remained? Find yourself blamed and running from the law with a bounty on your head, again. Do I sound bitter? It is because I am. Bitter and tired. Still, compared to the hopelessness I felt while Irenicus had absconded with my soul, this is positively delightful. 

Watcher's Keep is secure. The so-called "Imprisoned One" was none other than Demogorgon and, having uncovered that the Helmites that called me to their aid were part of a corrupt sect, I felt I had no choice but to take matters into my own hands and kill this avatar, freeing it back to its own plane lest it terrorized the realms. Helm's own spiritual servant offered me a way to seal it in the keep again, but for all my service to the God I must admit - and may my service in both Amn and Tethyr thus far offer some protection for what I am about to say - I dislike Him and his ways. No - neither the failing magic of the seals could convince me that history would not repeat itself some decades down the line, nor the inescapable truth of human error, as proven by the fallen Watcher sect: I really did feel that this was the only way. Demogorgon is much more suited to his own plane, amusing himself with his own affairs. One thing I **will** say: His presence was both loathsome and scandalously charismatic. Some of the rarest tomes in Candlekeep did speak about the famous charisma of all abyssal lords, which explains why I lost all will to doubt this creature while he spoke directly into my mind. Whether it is the power of my Father that helped me snap out of it or my own magic I do not know, but I am grateful.

We were making our way to the appointed meeting place with Melissan and decided to stop at the Oasis she had marked on our map to have a respite from the ravages of the desert when we were attacked by Tethyrian soldiers who informed us that there is a bounty of 100,000 gold on my head. Not a small amount by any means, but... Who do they really think can catch me now? I've fought dragons and demon princes, vanquished foes that could terrorize entire cities. Someone is either really stupid and has underestimated me, or the panic about me and the rest of my Bhaalspawn kin has escalated to such epic proportions that logic has completely flown out of the proverbial window.

Of course, there is a third explanation possible: Someone, or perhaps a group of someones wants to see blood flow like a river. Someone serving a dead God of murder perhaps? I wonder for how long I will have to keep gritting my teeth and pretending to trust this awful woman till I can expose her for the thinly-veiled liar she is. Still, it _is_ a bit amusing to think that she underestimates me enough to believe I don't see through her. Her surprise will be all the sweeter when I spill her blood. Yes, yes. I am aware vengefulness is not an attractive trait, but it has blossomed inside my chest ever since I saw Gorion murdered in front of my eyes and vowed to avenge his death and has not really decided to move out of there. No matter - I choose to believe I balance this ugly trait with my ability to forgive and forget when need be. Brother _is_ after all alive again, not to mention travelling with us and enjoying a not insignificant portion of my affection, even if he doesn't fully realize it yet. 

Other people are starting to, however. After a major spat between them right after the Keep, Jaheira took me towards the river to cool down her head. I've known her long enough to know that questions and probes would get me no answers. I'd have to sit next to her in silent company until she was ready to speak. Finally, the question came: "Till when are you planning to allow this monster into our company?" She was rolling her "r's" harder than usual, a sure-fire sign she was trying to suppress her anger and failing. I looked in her almond-shaped blue eyes trying to see whether she had calmed down enough to engage in conversation or whether she was just venting. I decided to try my luck: "Jaheira I am not planning to send him away." "He is an abomination! Refused by nature's merciful cycle and spat out again to walk the realm! And you enabled it! He goes against the very nature of things! And what of the balance? His victims..." "His victims have been avenged by his brutal death at our hands and his two years wondering the Hells waiting for me to show up, **alone**!" I interrupted her. "Jaheira, did you not hear a word I spoke to the Solar? Did you not hear _him_ as a little child in the vision the Solar projected? Do you really not see our fortunes could have easily been reversed?" She kept silent for a moment, giving me the opportunity to continue: "Jaheira deep inside you know this to be true. If you didn't, you wouldn't have thought the Harpers could mold a babe of taint into a force of goodness. And though the Harpers did not get me, the happy, protected childhood I had with Gorion did produce me, your friend, remember?" "Are you saying he is not responsible for the terror he brought on the land? Have you forgotten the misery down Cloakwood Mines?" "No Jaheira, I am saying that he didn't have the same chances I have had. And since he has already been punished once already, maybe we could lay off a little bit, hey? Or do you think following my lead is not wounding his pride every day? Insisting to serve the one that killed him?" "Oh you know just as well as I he is only looking for power. But... I concede that the rest of your words are true. I will back off." I nodded before hugging her. "Thank you. If possible, I would like to have a relationship with him. I need family Jaheira, family and friends. I think I would have lost my will to live in this world long ago if it wasn't for all of you." 

**Day 412, Pocket Plane**

What a disappointment. I'd always wanted to visit a desert and find an oasis, ever since I was a little girl and the priest of Oghma responsible for my basic education spoke about them and showed me maps and sketches during our geography lessons. Beyond being strewn with the bodies of the army we'd just killed to defend ourselves, the area was also filled with tents, carts and general filth. I brought us back to the pocket plane, for I had no intention of setting up camp there any longer.

We went to the healing pools to clean up and relax - now _that_ looks much more like a proper oasis, if my slightly faded memories of childhood lessons are to be trusted - and I quietly slipped into one of the smaller ones alone. If the pocket plane could change as radically as a vision of earthly paradise in the pool area, then why not elsewhere as well? The vast central hall was too much to handle for a novice plane-maker, but the area of the first challenge lay empty and bare, perfect for a little experiment. I focused my mind and struggled to bring the place into vision so that I could start molding it to my wishes. "No eyes! No teeth!" I yelled inwardly at my mind, but it seemed useless anyway for it didn't feel like anything was budging in the area I had brought into my mind's eye. Nothing for it. I struggled again, putting even more willpower into my thoughts and finally letting out a little scream of frustration as the image slipped away from me. I let my body slide further into the pool, the water coming up to my nose and blew some bubbles to relieve my tension. I imagined how wonderful it would be to have our own bedrooms, a comfortable place to rest... and as I relaxed into this fantasy, I felt the pocket plane tugging at my mind. I loosened my grip on the reality of my surroundings as well as my will, letting my imagination take over. Effortlessly, I felt the plane bending to my desire - I felt walls rising, rooms taking shape, furniture materializing. 

I jumped out of the pool and started running towards the central hall stark naked, the water running from my body causing my bare feet to slip on the polished floor. Cespenar swooped over in an instant, helping me find my balance with some effort, his light body clearly unable to withstand too much force but somehow making it anyway. "Cespenar good servant, OH YES!" he gloated. "Thank you Cespenar". He seemed entirely unperturbed by my nakedness. With a soft flutter he followed me to the area I had successfully transformed. I had to see it to believe it, even though my body and mind had felt its creation with absolute certainty. "YES!" I shouted, pumping my fist in the air. Cespenar flitted from bedroom to bedroom, finally coming back into the central common room area I had created. "Things certainly look _different_ 'round here" he quipped. "This what you likes now? I find shinies to match!" He didn't seem to care one way or the other, his only concern appearing to be my satisfaction. His curiosity satisfied, he swooped away to clean the trails of water I'd left on my wake. He returned, after a short while, finding me in the bedroom I had designated for myself and the sparrow and handed me a fluffy towel. "Master not whole yet. Catch cold she will." I took the towel thankfully, wrapped it around me and ran back to the pools to tell the others. 

"Finally you are realising your power" said Sarevok swirling the last bit of his wine in his mouth. We were sprawled around on the pillows and couches of the brand new common room, a spread of wine, freshly baked bread, cheeses and cold cuts provided by Cespenar on the low table in the middle. For the first time in quite a while, everybody looked relaxed and content. "Haha! Yes! The Solar has insisted on calling this my _'cocoon plane'_ and it has always rung dissonant to my ears. There's nothing _cocooning_ about doors of teeth, statues of Marilliths and awkward eyes sprouting from walls, is there? But now? Now it really **_is_** a cocoon!" I said triumphantly. A look of extreme weariness clouded the sparrow's beautiful face. "You are interpreting her words metaphorically my raven, but I assure you, she means them quite literally! Have you truly not realized this yet?" Sarevok pretended to look at his fingernails. The rest of us looked at Haer'Dalis, expecting him to continue. The look of weariness on his face turned to resignation. "What is a cocoon if not but a casing made by the chrysalis wherein she can ready herself to mature and take flight?!" His voice lowered from near-shouting to a low, resigned mumble. "She speaks not of comfort, but of a stage in development. You've made your casing, and she has come to oversee your emergence. What colors will this butterfly's wings have? She has come to find out... Perhaps she thinks she can have a say in their hues, since she keeps talking of your 'education'" Jaheira and Imoen looked positively appalled, Sarevok unreadable, Minsc confused and scared. As for myself, I was flummoxed beyond the capacity for speech. 

I tried to keep my hand steady as I put my glass down on the table and got up on wobbly feet. "I think I will retire early tonight" was all I could say. I waited a long time in our new bed for the sparrow to come and wrap me in his wings so that my discomfort would dissipate but he didn't come, and sleep took me into one of those dreams I had grown accustomed to, but never really comfortable with. 

**Day 413, Desert Campsite**

We are camped outside since sunset, trying to sleep for a few hours till we start walking again towards Amkethran in the middle of the night when it will be cooler. None of us have spoken a word about the events of last night and Haer'Dalis has been back to his usual self, humming idly while walking besides me, often falling back to tease Imoen or to discuss with Minsc. Sometimes I marvel at his ability to talk to the Rashemi: He is one of the few people that not only make the effort to, but also manage to have coherent, rather lengthy conversation with him (...and Boo). 

After sharing a skin of strong elven wine to brace ourselves against the startling cold that falls upon the desert at night however, a seriousness set once more upon his features as he asked me: "Tell me my dear, what is the taste of power? What flavor does it leave upon your delightful tongue?"

"Uh, what?" I mumbled, thoroughly unprepared for the question, my mind struggling to quicken back to a state of sobriety and not quite managing perfectly. 

"Power, my raven, is a subject, an idea, an **_ideal_** , some would say, with which you have much familiarity, aye? The power you wield over life and death, the power of the Slayer, even the power of prophecy opens before you and haunts you like a shadow! This sparrow simply wonders if all this agrees with your delicate sensibilities."

"Delicate sensibilities, huh?" I smirked, trying to win myself some time. 

"Divina I begin to suspect that you are purposely denying this bard a true answer."

"Fine, fine!" I relented, not entirely without irritation. "Power is sweet Haer'Dalis. Very sweet indeed."

"Ah, then you revel in the thrill power brings to you. I suppose I ought not to be surprised." 

"Indeed, you shouldn't be. I've never hidden the pleasure I take in the strength my blood brings me."

"Do not be so quick to give your blood all the credit. Clearly your father's legacy plays a great role in many events in your life, but it is you who accomplishes the feats and tasks laid before you. It seems likely that your power will continue to grow as time goes on. There are moments when I wonder if there is a limit to it all. What happens when you reach the end of all things?"

My mind reeled at the onslaught of words, the urgency in his eyes and the sadness in his voice despite the cold pragmatism of his words. Finally, I gathered my thoughts and feelings enough to manage: "You sound very far away and sad, Haer'Dalis. What are you really thinking?"

"That I will lose you, as all things are eventually lost. And that I fear who I will become once you are gone, because I --"

"--Hah! Ah, listen to this fool of a bard." and with this he nimbly got to his feet and glanced around, before turning to me once again "Excuse my hasty exit, my raven. I think I heard a noise close to that mound of rocks. I will go scout ahead and ensure no danger comes to our sleeping companions, aye?"


	6. Vengeful Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A double-length entry this time, partly to make up for the fact that the first three diary entries this time are mod/bioware content fleshed out with feelings, thoughts, reactions to show Divina's experiences of them. The biggest reason however is that there a lot of content relating to the corruption of Divina that I did not want to split up in two.

**Day 414, Amkethran**

We arrived at this dreary village made of stone and animal skins late at night, almost at the break of dawn, yet eyes must be ever-wakeful here: The moment we approached the imposing structure that is Balthazar's fortress he appeared to greet us, already alerted to our presence by eyes that we had failed to catch sight of. I wish I could say that he is a likeable man, this man that Melissan spoke about warmly and called a friend, but all I saw before me was a man with a cold dominating personality. I know his type well - too afraid of weakness - in those around them, but mostly in themselves - they prefer to snarl, bark and order as a preventative measure. His ways irritated me, but I made an effort to keep things civil so as to at least get the information I was clearly not going to get from Melissan since, predictably, she had disappeared once again. Balthazar provided me with maps to Sendai's enclave and Abazigal's lair and then swiftly disappeared back into his fortress, not without issuing several warnings and codes of conduct for our stay in Amkethran first however. 

We made our way to the local tavern, more out of habit than real need as we were all feeling quite alert despite the darkness around us. As the others stepped into the tavern Haer'Dalis caught my wrist and pulled me back. "Stop, my raven, I can bear it no longer! We must speak. I find myself at the end of my proverbial rope, no longer capable of holding this wild tongue of mine. The curtain draws closed! The director parts his lips and takes a breath in preparation to command, 'Exit, stage left!'"

I felt a chill in my heart, a thunderbolt of pain and then emptiness. "I've been waiting for this day..." I said softly. 

"I simply cannot -- ...Whatever do you mean, Divina?"  
"You're leaving, aren't you?"  
"My love, is this what you think of me? That this bard would simply crow a wild pronouncement and vanish into the night forevermore?"

What could I possibly answer to that? My mind screamed, that yes, this is exactly the fear that has been lurking behind my heart, ready to take a bite at any sign of vulnerability. I decided to evade his question and simply speak my feelings true:

"I love you my sparrow, and I'd be devastated if you left."

He looked at me with soft eyes, his warm hands suddenly on my arms in a gentle clasp. "Let me be very clear, my love. I have no desire whatsoever to be parted from your company, and my affection for you has in no way waned since I first declared it in the depths of Hell. Either I've misspoken or you've misunderstood, but whatever the case may be, you have this sparrow wrapped around your finger and any other part of you that desires my touch. Have no doubt of that."

Relief washed over me and for the first time in our relationship I felt an absence of doubt, a feeling of security that felt warm and sweet like honey. I looked into his eyes with renewed love, my arms wrapping around his waist, my lower body pressing against his.

"What I meant to say was..." he continued unabated, his face more serious than I expected "...Run away with me, Divina. Take my hand, turn your back on this life, and walk with me toward a new tomorrow. I cannot swear it will be safe, and I cannot swear we will never part, but I promise you that as long as we are together, I will show you places you've never dreamed existed."

"Done. Let's get going."   
He looked at me dumbfounded. "Truly? Just like that? All I had to do was ask, and you are prepared to leave it all behind on the whim of a mad bard?"

He clearly had no idea how much I'd started to resent my life after Irenicus captured me. Losing my soul, always being a scapegoat, always running away... My grip on happiness had become tenuous at best, and he... he was the only tether to normalcy and joy I had in my life. While everybody else was deeply embroiled in the prophecy, he alone travelled with me _just for me_. What else could possibly matter? 

"If this was a joke, it was a rather cruel one" I said, my voice barely a whisper, my eyes still locked with his.   
"No, 'twas no wicked game I whispered in your ear, but true longing and honest desire. Your reply caught me off guard, but I ought to be accustomed to your habit of disarming me by now, aye? Soon, my raven, we shall fly the confines of this life. One way or another. I swear it"

**Day 415, Amkethran**

I left the inn to explore the upper part of town, its open market and shops and suddenly became aware I was being followed. Brother. His presence had become very familiar, I didn't really have to look to know he was there, just like with Imoen. I slowed down my pace and he caught up with me, matching his stride with mine. 

"So. I yet remain at your side. I am surprised. But from your constant wary glances, it seems you do not trust my presence... yet." 

I glanced up to look into his eyes, strange pools of gold that were equal parts beautiful and terrifying. Sarevok went through life thinking he was human, but I had met Caelar Argent, went to the depths of Hell to find her after the battle of Dragonspear, and she is one of the very few "humans" I've seen with such eyes. Sarevok was no human, he was planetouched just like my tiefling, aasimar blood flowing through his veins. It explained not only his eyes, but his significant height difference with any other human I'd ever met. They are predisposed to goodness, aasimar, and exceptions to this rule are rare indeed. I once again marvelled at how much my brother's past had twisted his personality. Not that our Father's blood was any help... I wondered if his time in Hell had enlightened him to his heritage, but this did not seem the right time to digress from the clearly important matter in his mind. 

"No, that's not true. I don't fear your presence at all."

"You have grown in power, so I do not expect you to fear me as you once may have. But I do expect the lack of trust, the suspicion that I might betray you. If I were you, I would feel so."

"Would you?" I mused thoughtfully. "Oh, this is so pretty..." I sighed while pointing to a thin gold chain with a diamond-encrusted lightning bolt meant to rest in the middle of the wrist. "Buy it for me? It will be a lovely symbol of my lightning magic" I asked, my hand wrapped around his left arm. We were rich. We were, in fact, _swimming_ in gold. Just a few months in Tethyr and I had already deposited five hundred thousand, yes, that is half a million, gold pieces in one of the boxes of my Pocket Plane. I certainly didn't need him to buy me anything, I could buy anything I wanted. Yet I wanted a gift from him, I wanted him to have the chance to be a big brother spoiling his bratty sister. I was determined to help him find life again. Wordlessly, he handed a small pouch of gold to the merchant, not even bothering to haggle. I offered my wrist to him to put it on and he let out an exasperated sigh, his eyes flashing with irritation for a moment. I gave him an innocent smile. "Thank you," I said after he had clasped it around my wrist and gave him a kiss on the cheek while I could still reach him, bent as he still was on one knee from his struggle with the tiny clasp of the dainty chain. "I will treasure it." He nodded absently, his cheeks flushing a little as we started walking again. 

After a while he started talking again: "It eats away at me, then, as to why you would agree to take me with you and not force some sort of compliance from me through an oath. I told you that oaths had real power in our Father's realm."

"I don't believe in enslaving the will of others. Your destiny is your own business."

"So you... allow me to make my own destiny by your side, trusting I will not betray you... why? Vengeance aside, why would I not do so if I thought I could gain advantage?"

"You paid for what you did. You're a new man, free to make new mistakes if you wish."

"An... interesting view sister. I shall have to think on it. Do you really believe the words you speak?"

"Of course!" I tilted my face upwards and smiled at him. "Now let's go have a cold drink okay? This heat is going to be the death of me far faster than any plan of yours to take advantage of my weakness, mm? Do you think they get ice in these parts? Only if they employ wizards or creatures I guess... Oh, I do miss the North sometimes, don’t you?"

**Day 416, Amkethran**

It is early in the morning, too early really, the sun has not risen yet, but in half an hour we are leaving for Sendai's enclave and we are hoping to get a head start before the searing sun of this place rises high enough to make us wish for a Rashemi winter, ritually dancing naked in the snow. Time is of the essence, but I have to stop and quickly scribble something that happened over breakfast (a disgusting slop of oatmeal that feels leaden in my stomach). It cannot wait, this is too funny to be lost - I have to transcribe every single word as I remember it. Perhaps it will help me cheer up when I am down. 

So, we were pretending to enjoy the hideous breakfast when Sarevok suddenly turned to Minsc and started shouting, entirely unprovoked: 

"Ranger, turn your rodent's gaze another direction! I will not be scrutinized as though by some ridiculous divining rod"

I am most definitely not a morning person and I let my spoon drop into my already unappetizing plate, making my annoyance quite clear with the loud "clang" of metal on metal. They ignored me. 

"Boo is an uncanny judge of character, but you... you give him trouble."

"I shall give him more than that if this continues! I nearly conquered a nation! I will not be judged by a creature that stores nuts in its cheeks!"

Imoen tried to muffle a laughter and I looked at her, eyes about to pop from my head with meaning "Cut it out!" I mouthed and she ran off the table, supposedly in urgent need of water. 

"Food storage aside, Boo controls himself far better than you do. Do you see him ranting about mere glances? Let's see."

"What?"

"There, you see? No rant. In fact, right now we see him snuffing about for a comfy place to sleep. Admirable restraint."

"I'm still in Hell, aren't I? This is insanity."

"Ah, finally a calming look on your face. Boo's handiwork, no doubt. Doesn't that feel better?"

"Let's... let's go kill something. Soon." 

Embarrassingly, I felt a similar itch. 

**Day 419, Sendai's Enclave**

It wasn't so long ago my heart was breaking for all the suffering of my siblings. Now another one lies dead at my feet. I must admit, she was one of the more... distasteful ones. She laid waste to an entire enclave of drow, dwarven slaves and pet arachnids as well as all of her comrades in arms before she faced me, the coward. Her death felt strange, like it was meant to be and like it wasn't at the same time. She was strong, far stronger than I expected. Our battle left me breathless and almost out of energies of magic, it dragged on for so long. 

Immediately after, I was dragged back to the Pocket Plane by the Solar - honestly, I'll never get used to that feeling of being violently transported somewhere against my will - and I had to face another challenge. This was perhaps the most chilling one yet, for it was an apparition of myself proclaiming to be my innocence. So life-like was she, that Imoen ran to her shouting "Sis!" the moment she appeared, but just as she was about to hug her...me...she was repelled back by an unseen force. Haer'Dalis too looked quite stricken but also curious, while Jaheira's face was a mask of stony indifference. I expected Minsc to be confused but he silently twined his large fingers with mine and gave my hand a little squeeze, I felt him kissing the top of my head too, taking me out of my trance. I looked over at brother who looked like he'd seen a ghost, his face unexpectedly sad and regretful. I steeled myself and asked the other me across the room what it was that she wanted. 

"Merge back with me," she begged, her voice sweet and melodic, unrecognizable to my ears. "I am your innocence, your bright-eyed self that'd just left Candlekeep to face the wide, wild world waiting outside. Reclaim me and be born anew, free of sin and strife, free of the blood on your hands, free of your pain. Let me back in." I sighed, feeling the familiar sensation of my fragile heart cracking just a little bit more. "You are not lost to me completely" I protested. "You are there in my laughter, there in my dance, there in my love for those around me." "But you are no longer you. Let me back in and be Gorion's child once again, let your magic delight instead of kill, let your eyes be innocent once more, I promise you peace and happiness." I shook my head sadly. "I cannot do as you ask. I would lose this family" my hands made a broad gesture towards my companions who had now huddled close to me. "I would lose the power to save this land from this bloody prophecy. I would lose this love I found in a place without light, this love that guides me to hope." I didn't dare face Haer'Dalis as I spoke these words. My innocence laughed softly, the sound chiming like a brook of crystal clear water in the abyssal room, leaving only an echo behind as she next spoke with grave seriousness and regret: "So there is no room for innocence in the soul of a God. Then face your destiny, if you dare!" "Wait, that's not what I meant at all!" I screamed, but what I had before me was no longer my mirror image but a vision of a dark Slayer. She came mercilessly after me and I had to somehow find the strength to kill her. 

We are back at Sendai's enclave now, rifling through her personal belongings speechlessly, looking for any documents that might help us understand the situation better and gathering what we can from the room that might help us as we move on to the next battle, a battle that surely awaits us not far in the distance. But not for a short while yet. I am in sore need of a break and I am sure no one will object to a couple of days' rest in the Pocket Plane. 

 

**Day 420, Pocket Plane**

Hopelessness fills my heart. Haer'Dalis accosted me today with another bout of melancholy and worry that, according to his words, felt like "a knife to the heart". He had just come to the realization that divine blood is forbidden under pain of death or worse in his beloved hometown. I thought back to the discussions we have recently had, about escaping together, about finding his sister together and my heart sank. I tried to find words to speak, I tried to tell him that I would never chain him to my side and that he was free to return to his Sigil whenever he wished, but this tongue of mine refused to speak a lie so blatantly cruel to my own heart. "That's awful." I gasped. "I dreamed of one day walking through the streets of your home." 

"Aye, 'tis a lovely dream. It strikes me as unequivocally tragic that my two fondest desires should be doomed to forever remain separate. 'Tis a strange thing. If I am honest, I never truly imagined or hoped that one day we would walk hand-in-hand through the Bird Cage. 'Twould be a delight should such an occasion come to pass, but the future is not written. It cannot be planned. Who am I to know if we will survive to see another sunrise? And yet... This sudden notion that has taken root in my mind that it _cannot_ happen... that it is a possibility barred from us...? It burns me, my raven, far more than any other forbidden path ever has. I have never before resented your heritage, but in this moment, I would do anything to see you free of its influence." 

I shook my head wildly, my usual determination bubbling to the surface. I had not come this far in my life by thinking that things were impossible. Quite the contrary, I'd only become who I am by constantly betting against the odds and coming out on top. "I'm sure if we put our heads together we can come up with some way to sneak me inside."

Haer'Dalis looked at me sadly. "No, you do not understand. There is no _sneaking into_ Sigil. The Lady would know, and if she did not grant you the mercy of a quick death, then you would find yourself rotting in one of her mazes with nothing but your own madness for company. This sparrow is not one to run from risk, but that is one venture in which I would have no part."

I looked into his eyes silently, words failing me. 

He let out a deep sigh and held me, pressing my head to his chest.

"I love you Divina, and as I have reaffirmed time and time again, I know not what tomorrow holds for any of us. Had I been a better Doomguard, mayhap these thoughts would have never have sprung to life in my mind to begin with. 'Tis difficult to consider that your company and our travels have affected me so..." His words offered only half-comfort for insecurity snaked poisonously around my heart again, filling me with sadness. I took what pleasure I could in my corruptive influence upon his stupid philosophy but kept my face carefully blank, both from my heartbreak as well as the crumb of satisfaction I tasted. Haer'Dalis sighed again and continued: "And 'tis equally likely that this is naught but a wave of ill humor that will pass presently and leave me no worse off than before we met." _Oh really?_ Now I felt anger rising upward from my belly to my chest like a slow-burning fire that had just been fanned alive. I wanted to hurt him. Physically hurt him. Instead of letting it show on my face, I only let out a bitter little laugh pulling away from him just enough to look at his face: "Hah! Because I am such a terrible influence, right?" "Oh, but you are indeed, your eyes haunt my resting hours, and your lips tempt this bard at the worst possible moments. Oh, aye, you are the worst of all influences because you are one I shall never wish to do without. Should I live long enough I know that my feet will lead me to Sigil once again. But I am a fool to spare a thought to that possibility when here stands at my side a beautiful woman with whom I am utterly enraptured. One would think that was the sort of lesson I'd have learned fifty years ago. Tomorrow can wait my love, for today waits for no one. Sigil can be my tomorrow, Divina is my today." 

I smiled softly, thinking that I wanted to be his everything, just as he is to me. Our fight to the death continues, but my soul's light is losing the battle to his shadow. And still I walk towards that cliff, my resolve unwavering, for reasons not clear even to me. One thing I do know... Oh you see... I've heard of monastic sects up in Kara-Tur that believe that souls can be reborn under certain conditions. If - if by chance this is true, then by all that's holy and right I beg the Gods that should my soul return to walk the realms again that I never, ever, fall in love again. 

**Day 422, Pocket Plane**

Haer'Dalis gently removed the towel wrapped around my body, his eyes never leaving mine. He leaned in for a kiss but I pushed him against the wall, my other hand tugging on the towel wrapped around his waist. I went to my knees, my nose trailing on his abdomen, inhaling his scent deeply and resting for a moment in the thicket of hair below. His skin was velvety, smelling of soap - we'd just come out of the healing pools. I felt him stirring under my warm breath and the touch of my chin. He tried to pull me back up for a kiss but my hand was quicker, more decisive on his chest, pushing him wordlessly against the wall once again. In truth, my heart grows colder each day. My mind has had a hard a time losing itself in his kisses like I always used to and that is a painful realisation. Logically, I know that he has not done anything wrong - throughout it all he has kept reaffirming his love for me. But there is a weight dragging my heart down: The inconsistency between words that say "Remember that for as long as I draw breath, I am here if you have need of me, my dear Divina." and those that claim that I am his "today", but Sigil could be his "tomorrow" knowing full well that I cannot join him, blacken my very soul. This constant tension between deep love and insecurity, both of which he dishes in abundance leave my soul tattered. 

I looked up at him, finding a searching look in his eyes and closed my own so that he could not read my emotions, taking him in my mouth gently at first, then more deeply and insistently. I heard him groan loudly, his thighs, upon which my hands were resting now wobbling with effort to keep standing. I continued to pleasure him, sucking till my cheeks went hollow, teasing his sensitive tip with my insistent tongue then going deeper, feeling every inch of silky skin that wrapped his shaft with my lips. I knew exactly what he liked, fully in control. It was not an act of love. It was an act of power, an act to fill the void of powerlessness he kept creating in me, even for a little bit. I heard him gasping desperately and opened my eyes to look upward in his face to drink in the influence I had over him, and found him looking down at me, his eyes frenzied. "I...my raven... my Divina... I..." He could not finish his sentence. He gasped for air and threw his head back, a sound like choking escaping his lips first, then screamed his release to the ceiling. I swallowed, my mouth and throat burning up. Beyond a warmer skin, body, tongue... his fiendish heritage had bestowed him a molten, heated, bitter culmination to his desire. "I love you" he murmured, his body sliding down the wall, his face coming level with mine. "I love you" he repeated and pressed his face into my hair. "I love you" a third time in my ear. "Let me show you how" his voice was now barely a whisper, his eyes closed as he nuzzled my nose, the faint movement of his lips as he spoke tickling mine with the barest touch, his arms wrapped around my body. 

"I am sorry, I am tired tonight." I said, my voice cool, clear and unemotional. He opened his eyes to look at me and I made an effort to keep my face indifferent, inscrutable. It was not hard. I had what I wanted. Some calmness. I'd drank a bit of power. It would last me a spell, steel me a while from pain. I could keep calm. I could wear armor. I could do battle. Or at least not break. 

A cloud of disappointment mixed with something else - doubt? - passed over his features but he quickly dispelled it. "Of course my love. You must rest." He picked me up in his arms and gently placed me on the bed, covering me with the soft cotton weave of the light blanket and sliding under the covers with me. He wrapped his arms around me and gently kissed the back of my neck until sleep took me.

* * *

This is not the first time I've fought my demons with cruelty. What follows is a story from long ago, when we had only been seeing each other for a month or two after our first crazed night of passion at the inn in the docks district of Athkatla. It is pieced together from both my own memories as well as Jaheira's recounting of what transpired that day. I will try to keep the words as faithful as they were told to me. Though it was long ago, it was a memorable day - the first day I started suspecting Haer'Dalis truly loved me and the first day I realized my own love had a cruel, punishing side she wore like armor. By that time I was already deeply, madly in love with him, my infatuation causing my head to be in the clouds most of the time. The only times my concentration returned to me was when I was in battle, killing, casting spells. 

On that particular day, we were travelling towards the Umar Hills and, tired, we decided to rent a small ranger’s lodge on the way in a forested area nearby. It was a wooden cabin with a few bedrooms and a common room, no kitchen, just a fireplace in which we could roast some meat and keep a kettle warm. Anomen had still been travelling with us at the time and he went out hunting together with Minsc so that we could have something to eat in the evening. Yoshimo and Jaheira stayed in the common room, Jaheira brewing a few potions and mending some damaged cloaks, Yoshimo preparing snares and explosive traps. The sparrow and I went for a walk and had a terrible fight, the details of which are now lost to me. All I remember is that once again, he had left me feeling bereft of all hope with his talk about the uncertainty of all things beyond the certainly that all things end, his conviction that love is a fleeting thing, his philosophy...his...whatever it was I'd had enough. We had been debating for so long since we'd met - so many times had he been surprised at being proven wrong in our conversations and subsequent experiences that I had started hoping that a change was coming about in him. Moreover, I had seen _evidence_ of that change - he spoke of my influence on him, of his surprise at the way things were turning out. However, days like this one made me feel like for every two steps forward we were taking a step back and I was, once again, emotionally exhausted. I allowed hopelessness to overcome me, I had no energy to fight. I shouted at him to not dare follow me and returned to the cabin. 

I went back to my room and cried my eyes out. The more I cried, the more something hardened in me - perhaps that which has kept me alive all this time, a strange sense of self-preservation that kicks in at the most unexpected, but also most opportune times. A strange anger bubbled up and then settled down, leaving me calmer, but empty. I laid back on my bed feeling hollow. I stared at the ceiling glassy eyed for a bit then slowly started chanting an incantation, my thumbs pressed together and touching the area between my brows. My two djinn servants appeared before me. "I see no enemies, Mistress" said Awadi, glancing over at Rahma with his pupil-less eyes. Rahma nodded quietly but turned to me and inquired about my condition: "Have you been crying, Mistress?" "Mmm" was all the response I could give. Awadi fished into the pocket of his salwar and produced a red stone shaped like a waterlily blossom. "I bought this from a Dao friend today Mistress. It is a ruby cut like a flower from your lands. I was going to give it to my sister, but here, you can have it." "I don't want a ruby, Awadi. I want some company. And a massage. Will you give me a massage?" Without waiting for an answer - I expected no refusal after all - I produced a small bottle of extremely precious vanilla orchid oil I had procured for a small fortune from a clever Athkatlan merchant and handed it to him. I had meant to enjoy it with Haer'Dalis, but that option seemed as likely as the sun and the moon rising together at that very moment. "Of course Mistress."

I closed my eyes and left myself to the ministrations of my djinn who levitated my bed to make the process easier for themselves. It was a good feeling, floating after all that crying, it was a good feeling to have two pairs of strong hands on me, it was a good feeling to be lathered in sweet smelling oil. When Rahma turned me over on my back I said nothing, just let his hands glide over my breasts over and over again as Awadi drew soft but insistent circles in my inner thighs, inching ever closer to the place they met my torso and filling me with the familiar pulsating warmth and throbbing sensation of desire between my legs. His well-oiled hand palmed me gently and then slid inside me, stroking a place I had never felt touched before. I felt like all thoughts escaped my mind at once and all I could hear was Rahma chuckling softly as he pinched my erect nipples. Next thing I knew, I was howling in ecstasy, my mind finally truly numb. The bed was softly placed back on the ground and a blanket was spread over me covering my nakedness and keeping me warm in the absence of four rubbing hands. "Mistress? I will give you a sleeping drought okay?" asked Rahma. "No more crying tonight" he said as he blew an airy substance through his lips into mine. "You can sleep easy Mistress. I will trap the door with a spell trigger or guard you myself if you prefer" I heard Awadi say as I was already losing consciousness. "Spell trigger" I mumbled and then it all went blank. 

According to Jaheira, the sparrow returned halfway through my massage and sat down between them to sharpen and oil his blades. Once my moans started echoing through the cabin he jumped to his feet and looked at Jaheira accusingly: "Anomen?" he spat the words out. "He is still out hunting". "Finally, that face like butter wouldn't melt is creased with agony. You deserve what you get, _'friend'_." drawled Yoshimo with satisfaction. Haer'Dalis slumped back into his chair ignoring him. He turned his eyes to Jaheira: "Who is she with?" "Her genies." "How do you know?" Jaheira shook her head, giving him an absurd look. "I heard her summoning them, then I heard them talking, plain as day before you came. The walls are not exactly solid, as you have just witnessed! Quite the opposite - I dare say they're flimsy!" Haer'Dalis said nothing for a while, then picked up his blades and continued sharpening them wordlessly. "That's it?" Jaheira asked him, her voice laced with irony. "What would you have me do? 'Tis done and I cannot change it. She needs what she needs. I cannot deny it stings the heart though." Jaheira flew off her chair in a rage. "You bastard! Fool! You keep spouting your nonsense about how all that matters is today, for tomorrow is an 'uncertainty' but you hardly enjoy your todays _yourself_ , for all you think about is the eventual decay and decline! Instead of cherishing the moments you have with her, you keep warning her about the inevitable theft of her happiness by a tomorrow that may never come! I may not know a single Doomguard other than you, but if I have managed to understand anything at all about their philosophy all these months of travelling together, then I know for certain that you are a **_failure_** as a Doomguard, not to mention as a man!" By now she was panting with the effort of her forceful tirade but continued, if only a little calmer this time "We may do things differently around here, but it shouldn't be too hard for you to understand. We cannot predict the future either, bard. But we make a promise to try. We promise each other that if anger strikes, we will embrace to quench its thirst. We promise each other that if circumstances cause our love to start fading like the colors of a fabric laid too long in the sun, then we will blow on its embers and fan its flames anew. Is that really so different for you, I wonder? We never pretended that we could divine the future. All we've ever wanted was to try to keep each other warm and safe. Secure. If you cannot give her that, then you leave her sight. She has been handed enough pain by the fates to be tied to a worthless man." 

It took a while for Haer'Dalis to answer, and when he did he couldn't catch her eye. "I cannot do that my Ptarmigan. This worthless bard is selfish. I cannot leave her side. But I will think on your counsel and this once thank you for speaking your mind."

I awoke from the spell trigger firing. The room was pitch black, and I was lying on my side my face towards the wall. A sequencer went off casting a Wizard's Eye spell first, giving me oversight of the room, then a haste spell spread through my limbs and an invisible phantom blade materialized in my hand. I marvelled at its strength, as it was a spell I had not yet mastered, but immediately let go of it, letting it become one with the ether. There was no danger, the Wizard's Eye had identified the intruder as only the sparrow, who had tiptoed in the dark room unaware of the djinn's spell trigger trap on the entrance. He gingerly closed the door behind him, silently removed his tunic, boots, breeches and socks and slipped into bed with me as quietly as possible. He wrapped himself around me paying no heed to the smells of foreign hands on my sullied body. "I am here my raven. Your sparrow is here" he whispered. "I am sorry I wasn't enough, but I am here now." My eyes were wide open and staring at the wall, aware he was speaking words to a form he thought was sleeping. I felt his hand gently reaching downwards so as to not wake me and resting warmly on my belly. "You know not what you do to this sparrow." he whispered, more to himself than to me, I thought, and then felt his hand and arm getting heavier as sleep took him.


	7. Tainted Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Themes in this chapter may be triggering/uncomfortable to some. Please consider this as a warning.

**Day 423, Abazigal's Lair, Courtyard**

I tried to make him move aside, but he'd have none of it. Arrogant and proud, he was most assuredly the most beautiful male I had ever laid eyes upon. His body lithe, his golden skin glittering here and there with small patches of iridescent blue-green scales, his long straight hair a glimmering blonde the color of spun gold that seemed to gently billow constantly in a non-existent breeze. Two horns protruded from his hairline, first straight up then curling backward toward his crown. His eyes were an icy blue so light, that from a distance he had the blank stare of a statue. I swallowed hard at his visage, wondering how I could possibly turn my magic against such a beautiful thing. He didn't make it hard for long. Before I could even ask one more time that he step aside he transformed into an enormous dragon the fury of which I hadn't seen before. I quite honestly thought we would die - he kept healing himself and we were getting desperate and exhausted. Finally, we broke through his defences and I was about to unleash a spell so powerful I knew it was going to end him, having seen its results the previous two times I cast it against him. Then Minsc brought down his sword on the beast's neck as it rushed madly against the stone tiles reaching for a bite, severing the head in one fell swoop. 

"Tsk. You stole my kill!" I complained, my magic fizzling impotently in the air. 

"Boo said you didn't want to kill him."

Boo was getting mighty insightful these days - first Sarevok, now me. I wondered whether the ranger could recover from whatever trauma was clearly forcing him to channel his inner thoughts and dead-on instincts through a tiny rodent. I shook my head to make the thoughts disappear, clearly this was neither the time nor place to worry about this. 

We moved to the enormous structure in front of us and I sat down cross-legged at a corner, meditating on my spells. Imoen quietly sat down next to me, to set her mind in the weave as well. She still needed her book to focus and draw energies from and I could hear her rifling madly through the pages to find what she needed. I tried to ignore the noise, rested my head against the cold wall and closed my eyes, meditating on my incantations, visualizing all the complex hand gestures, focusing the spark that Mystra had freely granted me into my will. 

I don't know how much later it was when I opened my eyes again, but the sun had begun to set, bathing the vast courtyard in a golden red light. I felt rested and peaceful, far away from the sparrow, my sister's comforting touch on me as she had fallen asleep next to me, her leg and arm touching mine. 

"So, Sarevok," I heard Minsc say from a little ways away where they were standing guard above us "if that is even your real name... What do you remember of our previous battles, hmm?"

"What are you getting at, ranger? I remember you well enough."

"I am not completely convinced that you are who you say you are, standing there saying you are."

"And I am to feel bad that I do not have your validation? No, if my identity is a problem for you, then let my actions speak instead."

"Boo agrees. You are welcome besides us if you apply the boots of goodness."

I glanced at brother to see his face contort with barely suppressed confusion that quickly changed to a mixture of frustration and impatience. 

"Your deluded comments are unnecessary. Divina directs my wrath as she sees fit."

"A fine choice of mentor, but again, you do not seem like a 'Sarevok' to me. Too much 'humble', not enough 'RAAAAGH, feel my unholy rage.'" 

I found myself chuckling in spite of myself, both at Minsc's words as well as Sarevok's dumbfounded expression. 

I got up before things went out of hand. "Come on everybody, it is time to head inside. Something tells me there are more lizards waiting for us." It'd been three days of desperation, doom and heaviness inside me. It was nice to feel light inside again. Something good was happening, I was sure. My brother was changing. Boo knew it, I knew it. I smiled to myself and gave Imoen a kiss, catching the corner of her mouth as she turned to me in surprise. "Hey! You wait till we're alone, sis!" she teased me and winked and I threw my head back in laughter.

**Day 424, Abazigal's Lair**

We've been wandering around here for two days and I feel lost. This place is vast - I hardly know where I am leading my companions even as I am trying to keep an air of confidence about me lest they lose their wits and morale goes down. We swim through water-filled tunnels, ever deeper into caverns that keep getting bigger in scale than I had ever imagined. I am positively intimidated by the sheer vastness of it all, a vastness that leaves my senses confused, unable to grasp its scope. 

The water and dust, the foul magic in some of the cavernous areas have left us dirty, our leathers and clothes damp and stinking. My companions are beginning to complain, they want to be taken back to the Pocket Plane if only for an evening, to let Cespenar magically refresh their garments and armour, to let their bodies soak in the healing pools, to rest their limbs on fresh clean linens and their heads on soft pillows. I've been ignoring them, pressing them to go forward, unwilling to return to that bedroom where I manipulated my lover's feelings, where I intentionally tried to cause pain, where I drew power from having him at my mercy and then denied him to share in my love. At nights, as we sit down in secured areas and try to get some sleep, he plays his lute or harp but doesn't sing, just smiles softly as our companions calm down with the sound of his tune. I miss the lewd songs he'd sing to make us laugh, full of double-entendres and innuendo, the soft ballads he'd croon, tilting his head almost imperceptibly at me with every line he felt held meaning for the two of us. I guess I miss him. What I do not miss is the unsettled feeling he created in me, the madness in my mind, the pain in my soul. Still, even I am starting to realize we have to go to the Pocket Plane if this group is going to get properly rested. And then I need to start back at the entrance and memorize my steps in this maze of a cavern, otherwise we'll never make it to Abazigal. 

**Day 425, Pocket Plane**

I don't know where he sources these things - I probably don't want to know - but the dinner Cespenar provided tonight was sumptuous. Roast boar, buttery mushed potatoes, sugar-fired plums in brandy, wild mushrooms. We fell upon it like a plague of locusts, unable to speak for a while. Only the sparrow ate sparsely, his face ashen and grim. 

"Will you join me for a bath, my love?" he asked loudly and meaningfully, making it clear to the others we would be bathing first and they were not to join. "Of course." I said and followed him. 

We went into the pool and scrubbed each other with soap and washcloth in silent companionship for a while, enjoying the feel of warm, continuously flowing water around us. He finally turned to look into my eyes and wrapped his arms gently around me. They felt barely there and his eyes looked tired. 

"Are you done with me?" he asked quietly.

"What?" 

He shook his head, smiling bitterly. "I am asking. Is this sparrow to be chucked to the side of the road like a worthless piece of leather that has no enchantment? Has entropy really caught us so soon?"

"N-no what are you saying?"

"I am saying you no longer even want to look at me, my love! Must I spell it out for you, how much it hurts? I shan't hold you against your will, but please give me some courtesy. This is hell! Torture!"

I felt my eyes welling up with tears of indignation, my face flushing with anger which I immediately strove to contain. 

"You speak to me of torture? One moment you promise me that you are mine for as long as you draw breath, while with the very next breath you speak of a tomorrow without me like it is the most natural thing in the world! Do you even know how much that thing with Sigil hurt me? I lost my senses!"

I saw some light returning to his eyes despite the dark circles beneath them. His gentle hold over my arms became forceful and I felt my skin bruising inside his hands. He drew me to his chest and laid his mouth on the crown of my hair his voice repeating "My love... my love... my love" till it became a whisper. Finally, he pulled back enough to look into my eyes.

"My love, I cannot always promise you to be at your side regardless of what comes, but I would never wilfully abandon you if that is what you fear. I give you my word on that." He searched my eyes for signs of understanding. 

"Do you understand what I am saying to you, Divina? I may believe in the end of all things, for all things die. Even the greatest civilizations crumble to dust. Even Gods perish, your father is proof of that. But when it comes to you, I will never _willingly_ leave your side for as long as I draw breath. I have no wish to be without you. I am almost ninety years old, my raven, and I know something of myself by now, yes? I have never met a being that has inspired such singular devotion in me. Please take my word, that though I still believe that fates or death might break us, _I_ will never be the one to do so. The end I foresee is different, one that causes this sparrow pain and agony. But all I can do is try and make the best of today. Can you accept that?"

I nodded numbly, not knowing what to do with this much happiness in my hands. I felt a bit faint, like my head throbbed and my vision went black. My mouth was dry and I held my trembling hands inside the water where he couldn't see them. I was at a loss for words, I wasn't even sure my voice would come out if I tried to speak. "I love you" I finally croaked, my voice breaking with emotion. "Glad I am to hear that" he sighed, pulling me close. "Glad I am to hear that."

His passion bordered on violence that night, his movements rough, his pace savage. He bit my lip till I tasted copper and held my slender wrists pinned on the bed till I lost feeling in my fingertips. He rammed into me uncontrollably as he kept me immobile, his thrusts both deep as well as frantic. Still, he somehow managed to hold back, brushing his lips repeatedly against my ear and breathlessly murmuring encouragement, pleading with me to come fly with him. As my pleasure peaked he bit down the side of my neck like a wildcat and held on to the tender flesh as he pushed himself harder inside me, muffling his cries of release in my skin. 

 

**Day 426, Pocket Plane**

I woke up aching all over, my wrists bruised, my sex sore, my neck bitten and raw, my lip tender. I reached up with my hand to feel whether it was swollen and drew a sharp intake of breath as I accidentally pushed a little too hard against my teeth. I slipped out of the bed and quickly put on my robes, binding a pair of long bronze bracers around my wrists to hide the purplish-blue spots before the sparrow could wake up and see what he'd done. I quietly left the room and crossed to the other side, knocking on Jaheira's door insistently till she woke up. She opened the door and peered at me. "Is it really _this_ urgent?" She looked groggy and tired, still not recovered from our trip at Abazigal's Lair. 

"Heal me please." I said. 

Her eyebrows knitted tightly together, first with worry then with suspicion then an entirely different host of emotions paraded over her face before she finally spat "What in the Nine Hells is going on here?"

"Just do it please? I am okay, I promise."

She shook her head and opened the door, ushering me inside. She placed her hand on my chest and sang a short incantation, a wild song of love to Silvanus. "There. All fine now." 

I hadn't wanted it to end, my pain. It made me feel alive, loved, possessed. Our love was a poison that tasted really sweet to my lips. Still, I wanted to spare him the pain of the realization he'd lost control. Part of me thought he may know anyway, but felt I needn't have the physical reminders to show him. I wasn't certain he'd feel remorse anyway - I'd hurt him a few times now, and Gods know I wasn't feeling any remorse, not now, not before, not ever. I removed my bracers to look at my wrists. The skin was once again immaculate. "Thank you." I said to Jaheira with a small smile. She simply nodded and pushed another batch of the usual, foul-smelling potions into my hands. "Here. I prepared these for you last night. You smell more like the call of nature, feral, wild and true with every day that passes. I suggest you take one right away." My stomach lurched and my loins rebelled violently, like they always did on such mornings. " _Now_ , Divina." she insisted, seeing the instinctive resentment rising in my eyes. I obeyed her, quaffing one of the six draughts in one go, trying not to taste it. I gagged and coughed repeatedly, wheezing and unable to catch my breath for a good minute or two. "Good girl. Now let's go wake the others and have some breakfast."

After breakfast we went back to our rooms to pack our bags and ready ourselves for our second foray into Abazigal's Lair. "There's something I want to give to you." said the sparrow and as I turned to face him he pressed a small but thick leather-bound book into my hands. The leather cover was embossed with the image of a large raven and a smaller sparrow, golden relief lines running around the edges. The paper inside was silky and smooth: I instantly recognized it as Kara-Turan craftsmanship. Each page bore the sparrow's flowy, surprisingly neat script.

"You were really writing that!" I exclaimed in surprise. For once my heart didn't sink in doubt with this gesture. Had he not spoken his truth to me the night before, this simple act of gift-giving would have certainly roused all my insecurities, toxic voices telling my mind that it was a parting gift, a job well done, time for another adventure, a start to a new story.

"I was not planning to give this to you so early. I wanted to see your story true, see it to its culmination into..." he stopped himself, his voice trailing off. "I do not wish to do that any more," he said, taking my hand in his. "I want to write the remainder of this story together, whatever the end might be." I nodded, giving his hand a little squeeze. 

He looked bashful for a moment, wearing an expression I'd never seen before, completely unlike himself. "There's a lot of me in there too. The story started out as an epic telling of a half-goddess that walks the realm, bending it to her might and will. In the end it ended up being a bit of a journal for this selfish and confused bard." 

"You're trusting me with your innermost truths my sweet actor?" I asked with a soft voice and smile on my lips.

"Aye. Some of them at least." 

"Thank you." I went on tiptoe and planted a soft kiss on his lips. "It means more to me than you know."


	8. Redemption

**Day 427, Abazigal's Lair, Iycanth's Laboratory**

Without heartache causing me endless distraction I am finding my way with far more ease in this place this time around. I am rather shamefaced and guilty over the fact that Iycanth was rather mercilessly slain by our group - especially because he never saw it coming. He gave us the scroll and turned back to his work, his trusting back toward us. I lifted my chin grimly toward my companions as a signal. They attacked all at once, Iycanth did not even get the chance to cast a spell to defend himself. Yes, I feel guilty for such a dastardly way to kill another living being. However, I had spoken to him quite extensively before handing him the gauth's eye-stalk, asked him about his motivations, questioned his willingness to follow a deeply evil being into a path of destruction. He seemed to not care at all and relished the opportunity to build an army of magical eye minions to serve his patron. I just could not let his madness roam freely around the realms once I was done with Abazigal. 

**Day 428, Abazigal's Lair**

Just one more spell, that's all it will take, I thought to myself, my body convulsing with pain. My dreadful wyrm sibling was almost dead, I could see it. He was wheezing, his right eye had been slashed open by Haer'Dalis' awful sword of Mask and his right wing was looking broken and tattered from Jaheira's relentless attacks. He too knew he was going to die, I could see his wrath in his remaining eye which had focused squarely on me. He was planning to take me with him. The battle had been disastrous. Abazigal was not able to replenish his vitality like his young son, but he was ten times stronger. His vast room already looked like a slaughter, precious servants and constructs called to our aid lying dead on the floor. We had been gulping down healing potions like water and still he would rise up relentless and rain more pain upon us. By now, he had dispelled all of my illusions and protections, no other me to fight next to, no copies of me swirling around my body, no displaced images of my likeness glimmering in the air. I was standing there halfway through the strength I felt my body had, depleted of energy but not of stubbornness and courage. Just one more spell and he's dead, I can make it, I thought again. 

I started the incantation even as his eye, still focused on me, glimmered with something like satisfaction. My hands gesturing in the air, I kept chanting desperately while my own terrified eyes registered a change in the great wyrm's movements. A push from his taloned feet and he managed to get a few feet off the ground, his good left wing now rising and falling towards my head for a killing blow. It felt like time slowed down to a halt and a strange silence fell around me, everything happening in slow motion. _I am going to die_ I thought calmly. I felt sad yet empty, resigned to what I knew was true. Unable to change what was happening, I found acceptance. I looked around to find Haer'Dalis, to look at him just one last time. His eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head. "NOOOOOOOOO" I heard him screaming from far away and saw him running madly towards me, his blades tightly clasped in both hands. I knew he wouldn't make it in time, he was on the other side of the cavernous room, battling the dragon from his right side. Suddenly, it felt like the wheels of time restarted their rapid pace: I was pushed backwards by Minsc and Sarevok who both formed a wall in front of me, taking the enormous blow of the wing. Sarevok's armored shoulder caught me in the face and I felt my nose bleeding down my lips, making me want to vomit. I caught sight of my Planetar digging her sword in the chest of the beast that'd almost killed me. "We have prevailed", she told me with satisfaction and disappeared. 

"That was... anticlimactic..." I panted.

"Are you okay?" Sarevok asked, kneeling in front of my body as I was splayed helplessly on the floor. 

"I'm o--" I started saying but was interrupted.

"What the VERY FUCK are you doing? You are half naked in a battle with a dragon! Are you out of your mind?! What is this?" he spat, grabbing at the hem of my robe and smacking the soft fabric away with disgust. "You might as well be naked! What are you doing?" 

I sat up, irritated, the blood gushing from my nose making me choke. "Hand me a freaking piece of cloth to clean myself and heal me please SOMEONE." I glared at Minsc and Jaheira who immediately started a healing prayer.

"Good, now I can talk. What exactly do you mean, Sarevok? What am I supposed to do? I am an archmage, not a warrior. Not even a battle mage! What you see is what you get, it's gotten us this far, as you can tell! I cast enough protections beforehand, this creature was just clever enough to see through all my lies and illusions, as well as to break through my barriers. But I broke through his barriers too! He is the one that's dead!" Somewhere in the back of my mind I registered that I would have been dead were it not for his and Minsc's intervention, but it did not fit in with my indignation to bring it up.

Sarevok dropped to the floor exasperated, pressed his face in his palms and rubbed his eyes. "This is why I carefully went through life making sure I had no attachments. How can you _live_ like this?" I saw the rest of my companions huddled around us, stealing glances at each other. He then shook his head, cooling his eyes as he turned to look at me. "Or perhaps I am not used to having a role that serves in battle. Protecting the general is natural after all." He got up and made a motion as if to dust himself only to fall back down again a moment later when we were violently torn from our surroundings and back to the Pocket Plane for another meeting with the Solar. 

"I'm really getting sick of this" I heard Imoen say. 

"Hush, this is important." admonished Jaheira.

The Solar called forth the spirit of Yaga-Shura, forcing him to tell me the story of the five. He recounted how most of our Father's essence had found itself inside me, but also in them. Their plan, according to him, was to make Father stir, help Him rise back to His rightful position and claim a place at His side as demi-gods ruling Faerun. Their aspirations sounded startlingly familiar - it was just a couple of months ago that I had heard something very similar from Sarevok, only his idea was even more ambitious: I was to be God and he, my sole favorite. I wondered what he thought of what we had just heard now, but could not unlock my eyes from the Solar's magnetic stare to turn around and look at his face. 

"What will you do now, Godchild?" she asked.  
"Stop my last remaining brother, Balthazar, and Bhaal himself if I have to."

"I see" chimed her voice and she disappeared, our bodies thrown back into Abazigal's Lair.

We walked outside and were accosted by figure I hadn't seen in more than two years. 

"Elminster" I said at his unforgettable countenance. 

A raspy laugh escaped from the old man's lips, his bright blue eyes as mischievous and youthful as ever.  
"I see you know me now" he smiled.

"I think I must have been the only one that didn't, back then..." I gave an embarrassed smile in return.

He waved a hand before his face, still smiling, the matter clearly unimportant to him.  
"You and your siblings have wrought chaos upon the Sword Coast my child, though it is no fault of your own. My associates and I are even now scrambling to contain the damage before it reaches boiling point."  
He paused, thoughtfully. 

"You, you straddle the world with your might, riding towards your destiny."

Haer'Dalis let out an appreciative whistle "Now, _that_ is a titillating image..."

"I don't feel like I am straddling the world" I responded. In fact, sometimes it felt like the world was straddling me, I wanted to add, but thought better of it. 

"Oh, but you do. Even I wouldn't dare to take you on now, and I've had a long time to prepare..."

He paused and looked at me really carefully one last time.  
"Fare thee well, Godchild. I have faith in you." he said before teleporting away. 

"Who was that?" asked Haer'Dalis. 

Jaheira laughed her throaty laughter, unable to stop herself. 

"Come, let us return to the Pocket Plane" I grinned. "I'll tell you over dinner. I am warning you though, it might keep you up all night, scribbling."

**Day 429, Pocket Plane**

I took a grape in my hand and rolled it between my thumb and index finger, pausing to draw a breath before speaking. 

"I know I should have said something last night already, and I am sorry I didn't. Thank you for saving my life yesterday, both of you" I nodded to Sarevok, then Minsc. 

"That's what heroes are made for, right Boo?" I heard Minsc's cheery response, more to his pet than to me. 

Sarevok just nodded back to me. 

We stayed silent for a while, only the sounds of breakfast being consumed sounding around us. 

Finally, he said "I thought you were going to die. I was certain of it."  
"So did I, to tell you the truth." I gave a little pained smile.  
"I panicked." 

"Why? Because the general was going down?"  
He ignored me. "Sorry." I said. 

"Then I thought I broke your nose." he bit his lip, trying not to laugh.  
"Once again, so did I" I said, actually laughing and touching my nose, still very much the way it was before he crushed into me. "I've heard it said by a great healer visiting Candlekeep once, that noses are much more hardy than people give them credit for." Sarevok looked at me slightly appalled, clearly thinking the information I was providing him was useless, then broke down into a hearty laugh that shook the table. I don't think I've ever heard him genuinely laugh before and it was quite infectious: Both Minsc and I went into one of those hysterical fits that seem like they won't stop. 

"Beyond their purported hardiness, is it possible to look a little bit at what lies right in front of them as well, please?" said Jaheira, clearly not amused with this much boisterousness in the morning. "The Solar has opened yet another gate" she continued, gesturing toward the great hall. 

"Must you really dampen every fun moment with your seriousness my ptarmigan?" quipped the sparrow.  
"Let's finish with breakfast first at least, alright?" said Imoen, catching a glimpse of my disappointed face. 

Sarevok followed me to my room where I went to make preparations. I didn't know if there was a battle waiting for us down there - perhaps it was a different kind of challenge, a mental one - I remembered a few of those from before the battle with Irenicus - but I had not come this far by going anywhere unprepared. 

"I need to prepare my body and raise some barriers Sarevok, as well as set out a plan for the group's magical protections and wards as well. What is it?" 

"Be that as it may, I need to speak with you."

"Well?" I said with a little more agitation than I wanted in my voice. These challenges were making me nervous. I realized that I was letting my nerves get the better of me and that the opened room was not going anywhere fast. "No, I'm sorry, tell me." I said, patting the space on the bed next to me, urging him to sit down. 

He took a seat next to me and leaned back, not looking into my face.  
"It appears that the seeds that our sire sowed long ago are about to come to fruition. Only one of the five remains. For good or ill, the issue will be finally resolved very soon."

"This isn't exactly how you thought it would happen, is it?"

He shook his head in agreement. "I once thought that I was the one spoken of by Alaundo's prophecy, that is true. You may be the one as well, although that has yet to be proven beyond a reasonable doubt." 

I could tell he had misinterpreted my question, but let it pass. 

"Still, once this is all over, my use to you will be at an end. I have no oath to continue service, so my question is thus: What will you do with me then?"

I caught my forehead in my hand, feeling a headache coming on. Why am I surrounded by such difficult men, I wondered? It was two steps forward one step back with this one as well. I gritted my teeth.

"What do you mean? Why is it my decision?"

"I offered my services to you because I knew you would require my aid and my knowledge, and because I knew yours would be the path of power. But I also cannot foresee you allowing me my freedom."

I felt the familiar pang of insecurity and loneliness strike at my heart. My very own demon. I took a deep breath for strength and looked him in the eyes. 

"Well, you have your freedom whether you believe it or not." I meant it. I didn't want him out of my life, but I was not going to bind him to me by force, even though both my blood and my heart clearly wanted him near. 

"You would allow me to leave? We would just part ways, and I would be free to carry out whatever plans I wish, no matter what they might be?"

I hesitated, then decided to let my heart which trusted him speak, rather than my memories and my mind. 

"If that is what you wish brother, yes. And I in turn would wish you the best."

He stayed silent for a while, nervously wringing his hands. 

"And do you believe I have another choice?"

My mind struggled to catch his meaning at first, did he mean a choice to leave? Or a choice on how to live? I decided on the second.  
"Another choice than doing evil? Always."

"I see... I will think on your words then, sister."  
He took my hand, the same one that wore the little chain he'd bought me, opened the fingers and kissed my palm before wordlessly leaving the room. 

**Day 430, Pocket Plane**

It wasn't a good day, yesterday. It is never a good day when you come face to face with an actual God of murder, strife, lies and illusion in the flesh. I am no cleric, no paladin... to make direct contact with a deity was quite a strain on my grip on reality. Eventually, when the dust settled, I guess it made me realize better than I have ever before that I have divine blood running through my veins. Cyric transported my allies elsewhere while talking with me, musing how matters of the divine were not for the ears of mortals. I had no cognitive resources free to wonder why he did not let Imoen be part of our conversation at the time, but I do have to wonder now. I later tried to ask them where he sent them, but they just shook their heads and refused to answer, their features tired and drawn. Only the sparrow looked brighter than the rest and simply said that it was someplace much better than the Lady's mazes, his voice droll. Their efforts to spare my feelings and assuage my guilt only made me feel worse. 

Cyric wanted to assess what threat I posed upon his office and portfolio and I assured him with as much distaste as I could muster that a throne of murder held no interest for me. He did not seem convinced - in fact he laughed and projected a parade of images, the visage of every single creature I had killed behind my eyes. I was frozen in place and couldn't move nor blink, my eyes drying of moisture as thousands of souls, both beast and humanoid danced before me in their macabre pageant to death by my hand. "You? Not interested? Don't make me laugh, seedling of my enemy!" cackled the God. "Liar!" He accused. "Not everyone is made in Your image" I answered, finally managing to blink and feeling like my lids were covered with sand and shards of glass. "Mmm... We shall see, Godling. For now, let us see how you fair against my favored!"

Assassins filled the room and my allies were once again returned to my side, though woefully confused. The assassins fell relatively quickly, but the bewilderment from being transported back into a room full of enemies cost Sarevok and Jaheira two potent stabs laced with a poison we could not cure by potion or spell. They have been recuperating in the healing pools all day and finally seem stable. Cespenar has been cowering behind my robes all afternoon, unwilling to go back to his usual cheerful commencement of his duties. I guess seeing Father's erstwhile enemy in the flesh was quite traumatic for the little guy...

**Day 433, Pocket Plane**

We have been cooped up in the Pocket Plane, for the last couple of days after our encounter with Cyric. Sarevok and Jaheira needed time to recover but have recuperated back to full health as well as strength. It was slightly harder for Imoen and Minsc to come back from the horror of wherever it is that Cyric sent them. For Imoen, I guess the strain of being transported and imprisoned against her will once again after what Irenicus and the Cowled Wizards did to her was too much to bear. For Minsc... I do not know. Perhaps it is his freedom-loving Rashemi spirit, perhaps his mental weakness, but he was also silent for most of the first day they got back. Both of them have slowly recovered and have regained their good humor, not without the help of my dear bard who has been regaling them with lewd song and verse, stories of absurd creatures met on his extraplanar travels as well as the occasional magic trick, usually involving his blades. I swear, his energies are boundless. 

For my part I have taken the opportunity to simply lie in bed and read all day. I've been reading passages of the book the sparrow gave me in stolen moments here and there since that day, but these past two days and nights of peace in the Pocket Plane have finally given me the opportunity to read it from cover to cover. Nothing I could ever write in these pages, nothing I could ever confess in words could possibly convey the magnitude of emotion that swallowed my heart as I read his truth in print. In the silky pages of my book, I have found everything - from early chapters describing the details of my pursuits to intimate details of our love affair. The first time we locked eyes, the first time we kissed, the first time we made mad, frenzied love. More than that, I have found an outpouring of emotions from my bard, words he has never spoken to me, thoughts hidden in his mind, truths that hurt me and liberated me in equal measure. I give the most poignant one below, in his own words: 

"'Tis been six months since our bodies became one for the first time, four months since that fateful day I felt my heart yanked into a pool of love that made my soul tremble with fear, and just two weeks since I first accepted a cleric's healing touch or allowed my lips to taste a healing draught. I... have failed. I have mocked entropy, betrayed my faction, took the healing magics into my body as a blessing and not as a slap in the face of everything we believe in. I have sinned gravely and no longer deserve to be called a Sinker. All because of her. Because I cannot bear to be parted from her. I cling on to life disgustingly, just to be with her. My body reels and convulses as Jaheira and Anomen heal me and yet my soul feels ecstasy for I know I can spend one more night holding her. Today she killed the most powerful enemy we have faced yet, a lich by the name of Kangaxx. From a small red velvet box in his sarcophagus, she recovered a ring with extraordinary healing powers. Eyes gleaming, not even thinking of her own fragile form, a form that enters every battle with just a thin cloth around her, she pressed it onto my finger. She doesn't know. She has no idea what kind of sin I have committed. What kind of sin I am committing wearing this gift. Jaheira was right all those months ago. I am a failure of a Doomguard. But maybe... Just maybe, not a failure as a man, as she put it. I have no regrets. It has only been two weeks and already my body has stopped automatically trying to reject the healing magics. All I want is to be by her side."

I looked over at his form when I first read this passage - he was sitting at the desk in our room, writing, often crumbling the pieces of paper and tossing them madly to the floor, lost in his own creative world. He still wore the ring, only now it was on his ear. We'd had Cromwell, a master smithy in Athkatla refashion it into an earring, since the sparrow hates wearing things on his hands. Cromwell had isolated the enchantment in the small red gem that graced the ring and placed it on a beautiful hoop that matched the rest of Haer'Dalis' collection. I wondered if it still hurt him to wear it and felt a tear rolling down my cheek. I felt shame. For so many months I made war with him in my mind, fighting with every fiber of my being an imaginary battle of wills, marshalled onwards by my pained heart. Kill or be killed, a fight to the death, those were the conditions laid out by my mind. While he... he was battling his own demons, trying to find peace in his heart for the part of him I'd already killed and laid waste to, without a trace of anger or resentment to match my own. I do not feel guilt, for he has killed a part of me too, created a shadow over my heart that corrupted something pure, but I do feel pain. Pain for failing to realize his suffering, regret for the pain I caused deliberately, lashing out when my own heart bled. I finally realized, this was not a kill or be killed kind of battle. It was an impassioned, disorderly skirmish with casualties on both sides. I wonder if deaths on both sides is a requirement for love between creatures of different planes, each side having to give up something important in order to come together. The price I had to pay was a tarnished soul - what the taint had failed to touch, he did. I cannot pretend I fully understand what the price he has paid is, but, if we survive and we manage to get away, I hope to have a lifetime to find out and fill the void. 

I enclose another of his entries below, to end this day in sweetness before I close my eyes to sleep. It is dated months later yet, a few days after my soul had been stolen by Irenicus: 

"A whitewashed cottage by the sea, a place to rest our worn bodies and beaten minds in until we can find a way to leave Brynnlaw. Some of its walls have already started to crumble due to the daily brine spray of the sea. She has taken the cornermost room, asking for solitude. Yestereve, our first night outside Spellhold, I heard her muffled cries through the paper-thin walls as I lay in bed, similarly unable to sleep. I got up, not even bothering to get dressed and ran to her room not pausing to knock. I found her naked and trembling on top of the covers, curled up in a little ball, sniffling. Not a sight I am used to from my strong raven. I went to her, quietly enfolding her in my arms. "Did it happen again?" She shook her head no, her teeth digging into her fisted index finger. I gently pulled it out of her mouth and curled up next to her, pulling her golden hair away from her face and kissing her temple. "I fear for you..." I said, trying to keep the pain out of my voice. She quickly shifted her body on its back and whipped her head around to look at me with tear-filled eyes that still managed to pack enough strength to feel as though they seared me. "Fear OF me, you mean... fear... me..." her voice cracked and she closed the moonlit-green pools that are her eyes, causing a heavy tear to streak down each cheek. I changed position to face her properly and wiped her tears with my thumbs, cupping her cheeks and caressing her softly. "Never my love. Never say that again. 'Tis not true. You will master this trial too. And we shall reclaim what is yours" I said, laying a hand meaningfully on the center of her chest. She had stopped crying, her breathing calmer. I blew out the candle on her bedpost, leaving the bright island moonlight be the only light in the room and unlaced my undergarments stepping off the bed a moment to lay them on the chair. I pressed my body on her frame and felt her grow rigid, her thighs and knees tightly clamping together. I laid a trail of kisses from her forehead, down her nose, to her sweet lips' bow and finally on her lips. "Let me in..." I murmured softly on her lips, pressing myself gently on her abdomen. "Let me in..." I quietly beseeched her again, caressing her lips with mine, her hair with my hand. Finally, I felt her loosening underneath me, her sweet legs parting in open invitation. I pushed myself inside her and rocked gently back and forth within her, my lips on her face, neck, nipples, my hands cradling her close to me, until her body finally came back to life. I heard her breath quickening and in that moment felt complete, fitting perfectly inside her, holding her close, not wanting to part. Her cheeks and nipples flushed pink, her slightly swollen lips parted and started calling my name "Haer-da-lis... Haer-da-lis... Haer-da-lis...!" a pleading mantra that made me feel like my heart was about to explode inside my chest. She speaks my name with such ease in the throes of passion, having no idea that it is my undoing, that she is fully in control even as my body pushes into hers, searching for home. I felt her convulse and tighten repeatedly around me, and felt a fever taking over my body and mind, my only thought to spread my seed inside her, as though that could make her whole again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haer'Dalis' break from the Doomguard Faction is based on canon lore regarding the Faction's philosophy. Doomguards are not permitted to heal themselves with any kind of magic and clerics that have access to healing magic are barred from membership. Death and destruction after all should not be denied when the time has come - using healing magic would be the opposite of allowing entropy to take its natural course. This philosophy is so intrinsically rooted in a Doomguard's psyche that an attempt to heal them would result in an automatic attempt to save vs. spell. Haer'Dalis' gradual move from this to a state of accepting healing magic and even pursuing it himself through magical potions to stay by the side of CHARNAME reflects what _could_ have been canon part of the romance path with Haer'Dalis if his romance had not been scrapped from the game due to time constrictions. As per David Gaider's (Bioware's main romance writer and writer of HD's romance) own words, his romance path would have had a redemption arc in which Haer'Dalis ended his association with the Doomguard. I have no idea how David Gaider would have resolved this issue or how he would have handled Haer'Dalis break from his Faction, but I chose to use the canon lore on healing magic since the game allows the PC to heal Haer'Dalis and Haer'Dalis is not prevented from using healing potions. I felt it was a good vehicle for the redemption arc in my story and I do very much hope you have enjoyed it.


	9. Crumbling

**Day 434, Amkethran**

He came to bed late last night, crawling under the covers carefully, trying not to wake me. I turned around and nuzzled his chest sleepily, looked up at his face, pale and beautiful in the moonlight, his mane of soft silvery-blue hair inviting my touch. "Mmm, I missed you, you've been working all day. What are you writing?" He pulled me closer to his chest and kissed the top of my head. "A song." "I finished your book today" I told him. A soft sound, a cross between a chuckle and a sigh. His hand ran down my hair once, twice. "I've been found out, haven't I?" "Maybe you wanted to be found out since you freely gave it to me." "I was not planning to, originally. At first it was meant to be a book for the world, published after we had parted ways. A book about a half-goddess and her destiny... Then it became a book about us... Then finally, it became a book about me. And as the curtain closes, the audience not knowing whether there will be a third act, I find it belongs only to you. Since I do. Promise me you will be careful." I pressed my face in his chest, hiding as sudden prickle of bashfulness that took me by surprise. "You said we would run away together..." I managed. "Yes, but I have not managed to find a key yet. This destiny of yours has dragged us from giant to dragon and back again in the space of what seems like only a few days, even if I know it is longer. Opening doors takes time to hunt for them, though. But..." he sighed. "Even if I had found one, would you be able to run away now? I know you a little bit by now, aye? The weight of the world is on your shoulders. You'd stay and fight, save those you could." I stayed silent, momentarily uncertain of his insight and whether it held true. I felt the desire to be free tugging at my heart, felt the pain of the Sword Coast tugging too. I couldn't tell which side the scales were tipping for a few minutes. Then I suddenly knew with certainty I could not live a life in which my happiness was built on the misery and death of others. "And you?" I asked him. "As I have said so many times before, my blade is yours, for as long as I draw breath. As for the destruction of the Sword Coast? I will not lie to you, I care not one bit if it crumbles to dust and falls to entropy forevermore as long as I could whisk you away with me, safe and sound. My only regret would be the thought of the place I first met you disappearing from this world forever. But what good do these thoughts do us, my raven? Sleep now and take us to your fate in the morrow." What could I possibly answer? I closed my eyes and slept.

My fate still awaits us today, for I have yet to find a way into Balthazar's fortress. We've been speaking to people all day, not to mention fighting off Balthazar's mercenaries that are decidedly less friendly than last time we visited, and the only answer we've so far stumbled upon is a lead to Saemon Havarian. I have a good mind to go and kill him rather than accept help from him, and now that I know that he is in town again my vengefulness has stirred. But that will have to wait for tomorrow. In an hour we shall make our way to Zeke's tavern for some rest, as the blistering heat and constant battle with the seemingly endless stream of mercenaries has left us exhausted. 

 

**Day 435, Amkethran**

Success! By pure stroke of luck - or perhaps simply the exhaustion and process of elimination of every single course of action in this town - we have stumbled upon an alternative way to enter Balthazar's fortress. The answer was with Zeke, the owner of the inn, all along. He sent us to a couple on the upper part of town who, he claimed, had a key that would lead us inside the fortress through the underground graveyard. Apparently, the monks had connected a shaft from the monastery to the resting place of the community for the purpose of performing spiritual and cleansing rites in the time when the monastery still served the interests of the people. We leave at nightfall, hopefully unseen from prying eyes and raging mercenaries. 

I had a restless night yestereve, knowing that by tonight the journey towards the last of the five begins. My heart is not weighed down today however, quite the contrary, my chest is filled with joy and celebration. Were there music, I would dance. It was about an hour after breakfast and we had retreated to our respective rooms to rest before the active night which awaits us. A knock on our door, then Sarevok's deep voice came from the other side. "Can we speak?" "I think he means you." said the sparrow, his voice unusually curt and irritated. He has been writing non-stop since yesterday every moment he can get outside battle, food and sleep. He clearly did not appreciate the interruption to his flow. "I'll be right there" I answered.

I closed the door behind me and walked with Sarevok back to his quarters. We sat on the bed and just like almost a week ago, he took my hand in his. His large, rough thumb fingered my knuckles and he closed his eyes as he spoke. "We are about to face our last enemy. I cannot leave things unsaid." His eyes opened again and looked into mine, discomfort and hesitation mingled with urgency. "You have done me a great service. Brought me back from a blazing inferno, where pain sears through the soul each day. Despite having experienced it, I was ready to risk falling back into it again in exchange for the promise of power at your side. But you... you are different. After... After all you have been through... Despite the taint in your blood, you sought a different way. It astounded me at first. Infuriated me too. But you allowed me to stay by your side, your actions and words always... kind. A kindness I wasn't allowed even as a babe." "You don't have to say any more, brother, stop!" I didn't want to see the great man humble before me. He didn't deserve any more pain, he, as well as I have had enough of that to last ten lifetimes. "Let me speak, Divina, I want to. You believed in me, in the possibility of a different me. I didn't know what to make of it at first, thought you a fool. A powerful fool, but fool nonetheless. You spoke of a debt owed to me. I want to assure you there is none. Because next to you, these past few months..." He paused and looked down at my hand, finally giving it a squeeze. "Happy. I've been happy. Not because of all the killing," he chuckled, "but in spite of it." I let go of his hand to wrap my arms around him. "I've been happy too. Happy to have family again. Happy to have had an opportunity to share a laughter with you. Happy to have been protected by you. Happy to have a brother." His golden eyes took on a radiance I had not seen before. "I want to make amends. Lead a different life this time around. I wouldn't have believed I could if you didn't believe in me first. There is much in my life I have to atone for. I think it will be a good goal to strive for when all this is done, if we survive." "Don't say such things. We will survive this, I have to believe we will." He nodded and hugged me tightly. "I love you" I whispered in his ear. "I know" he rumbled quietly in my ear. "I don't think I'd be the same man if I hadn't known." 

**Day 436, Pocket Plane**

Balthazar was surprisingly easy to bring down, it almost felt like a disappointment, really. I tried long and hard to reason with him - it was evident this was not a man after power or the Throne itself. His plan was chilling, but sensible: He was planning to take out all his kin and then commit ritual suicide, to end the taint of our Father upon the Sword Coast. Two things bothered me greatly with his syllogism: What guarantee did we have that Bhaal would not be reborn from such an action? Secondly, what right did he have to end my life when I have only done good upon this world? Was I to be judged on a future that had not transpired, based on a prophecy that said our taint would cause the rivers of Faerun to run with blood? I could not accept such a judgment. He declined to answer me properly. For him, the time for talk was over. His effort was impotent and I felt pity and regret in my heart that things had to be this way... It was over all too quickly, too quickly for rage to take over, too quickly for bodily pain to distract me from what had just transpired. All I could think of was that if he had not used me to take out our other siblings, Sendai and Abazigal, perhaps he would have realized how inadequate his life-long training as monk would have been against... against... magic... a stronger taint... I do not know. I feel he died in vain, a good, if flawed man, surrounded by an army of monks and mercenaries that gave him an utterly false sense of security. Ah, I do hate feeling like this. 

Back at the Pocket Plane the Solar called forth an enraged Melissan and forced her to explain her actions to us. She raged against her bonds but could do nothing against the celestial warrior, save spouting a string of curses and threats. She was almost a Goddess she said and she would not forget this indignity. Had I not been feeling rather depressed about Balthazar's death this might have caused me amusement, having suffered the exact same "indignity" several times at the hands of the imperious Godservant. She did not seem to need further goading however, as she turned to me in the most gloating tones and told me that the Throne was almost hers. She described how she was Father's High Priestess, the one to whom he had turned to for succour during the time of troubles. Finally, one of the mysteries of his resurrection was clarified. Yes, His essence was gathered after our death, but it did not return to the source, that having become dust with His death. Instead, it was collected by Melissan, with power gifted to her by Bhaal Himself, having entrusted her with the task of His rebirth when all of it was gathered. Melissan let out a cackle as she proclaimed "My Lord can keep being DUST. _I_ will be the Mistress of Murder, nothing can stop me now. I am close, so close to ascending to the Throne." I rolled my eyes and she flashed me a murderous look befitting of her aspirations. "Oh, _please_ , don't expect me to be surprised Melissan. Your sweet act fooled exactly no one, and though your ends may have been unknown to me until now, it isn't as though I did not expect I would have to stamp out your evil from this world. Now you have only given me all the more reason to do so: You cannot possibly know how desperate I am to get rid of my shackles and bonds, how I long for freedom." "FOOL! I will help you find freedom alright, freedom in death." "Oh I don't know... how much of a threat can you _really_ be when you didn't even dare to take matters into your own hands and used _me_ to do your dirty work for you? Scared, are you?" I responded coolly, not giving her the satisfaction of sensing the terror building inside me. If... if she had so much of Father's essence gathered... I didn't know if I could really compete against such an opponent. She let out a screech like a mad banshee at my taunt and lunged at me only to find herself invisibly restrained by the Solar. 

"This is not the right time. The Godchild has not passed her final test. My Master has a vested interest in seeing this played out in the order it was meant to be played out by the prophecy. You will _not_ force an altercation in the Godchild's domain, the balance _will_ be preserved. No. She will have to face you where you are strongest. Only then will the heavens know that the balance has truly shifted. Return to your Throne room, so that I may not suffer your countenance another minute."

A slow smile spread over Melissan's lips. "That suits me fine. Those terms are most agreeab--" and she disappeared with a flick of the Solar's finger. 

"One last challenge Godling. And then you face your greatest trial yet. I will be watching." 

Terror gripped my heart and I retreated to my room, not wishing to let my companions see the courage drained from my eyes. 

I awoke later that evening, feeling Imoen's persistent touch on my shoulder. The room was dark with the exception of the moon's pale light. I wondered, absurdly for the first time, why there was a moon outside the pocket plane, why it was always full. Come to think of it, there was sun outside the bedroom windows during the daytime too. My mind must have created them as I formed the "cocoon" area of the Plane to give myself comfort and a sense of normalcy. I blinked at Imoen, my lids heavy. "Get up, you have to eat something. You haven't eaten since last night." "I will survive." I said, trying to turn on my side again. "Oh no you don't. You get up right now. I am not letting you do this. I have seen this before, after the Underdark when that fool of a tiefling tortured you. I wished _I_ were able to turn into the Slayer _myself_ so as to rip his face apart at the time. I don't know why I didn't." "Really? You bring this up now? I don't need to remember this too, and I certainly wish that you'd support us! I thought you did!" "Pffft! Support the Heart Thief?" I hadn't heard her call him that since Amn. "Never." I sat up on the bed startled and lit the candle with a spark of magic to take a better look into her eyes. I saw her grinning from ear to ear. "C'moooooon I'm kidding, I'm kidding! It woke you up, didn't it? Oh, come on, don't look at me this way! He has it bad for you, I can spot a pair of lovesick eyes from a mile away. You have the same eyes you know. I support you, I swear. I still remember how to backstab, if you ever need my help though." I threw a pillow at her and it caught her in the face. "Your reflexes are down sis, you've lost your touch. Better train hard if you are to be able to protect my heart's interests." She giggled. "Hungry yet?" she asked me. "Yeah... let's go eat. Have you and the others eaten yet?" "No, we've been waiting for you. Talking mostly. Your bard has been writing for the better part of the day... He seems to be finished for now, whatever it is that has kept him so occupied this past week. Sarevok has been trying to strategize, I've been trying to shut him up because warriors cannot build strategy for mages. It's up to you and me. Mostly you, ok? So get it together." I nodded. "There's still the issue of the last challenge, remember..." I said while putting on my robe and tying the sash in an elaborate knot. She shook her head. "We have to fight a mage drunk on divine power and you still worry about these challenges? Seriously, get a move on and let's go eat, I'm starving."

 

**Day 437, Pocket Plane**

"I am what lies within you. I am the ultimate expression of your power, Godling. I am the last of the barricades you have erected between yourself and destiny. Defeat me and this plane is no more... there will only be the Throne of Bhaal. But you will not defeat me, for I am the Ravager." 

A larger, darker, far more menacing form of the Slayer towered above us, calling half a dozen of Bhaal's bone daggers to its aid. Was this really a part of myself, I wondered. And if I defeated it, this ultimate expression of my power - a power I did not even recognize - would that mean I would be strong enough to defeat Melissan? Would I gain something? Would I realize a power I didn't yet know I had? The struggle seemed to go on forever, the giant of pure menace would not go down. I felt like giving up at times, felt like shouting to the Heavens for release, prompted by my companions’ visages when they neared death. I, as usual, was accursedly untouched, not a speck of blood on my pristine skin for my magic held strong, as did Imoen's. We looked at each other in despair. My only solace, the only being I drew strength from at those moments was my Planetar, swooping down with great wings to heal those that were about to fall. When the Ravager finally fell, I fell down on my knees, exhausted, my chest constricted, my heart beating like mad. No one had died. "No one died" I repeated out loud. "Everyone is alright." I had managed to preserve them, throughout. No one had to face the horror of resurrection. Even if I failed at what awaited me next, at least I could go to whichever God would have my soul - Mystra? Corellon? Oghma? I offered prayers to them all, unable to focus on singular devotion like many of my half-elven brethren, but mostly to Our Lady of Spells - with no regret about that. I had managed to keep them protected throughout our travels, even if the twining of their fates with mine brought them so much turbulence. 

Before I could find my feet and get up, I heard a great voice booming. "The Pocket Plane shall soon crumble, child of a God. The seams are already starting to come apart. Once you leave for the Abyssal Throne this place shall be no more. You should rest, but do not tarry." 

Instead of getting up I just let myself roll on to the ground, unable to accept this edict. Was it my will that was tearing the plane I had created apart? An iron, subconscious will that strove to move forward, to see the end of things? Because I wasn't ready, consciously, I was not ready for this to end. The insecurity, the great unknown that followed after Melissan filled me with even greater trepidation than even the prospect of going against her. There were questions echoing in my head, questions I wasn't sure I wanted answers to. What was this destiny that everybody spoke of? I had consciously pushed it out of my thoughts for months now. Even if I survived the coming battle, would I get a say in what happened to me? Would I get a say in how I wanted to continue my... existence? There were words, thoughts, ideas I did not dare allow take form in my mind. The effort of blocking them, my fear, my exhaustion took over and everything went black. 

I came to my senses feeling my body being gingerly lifted up by Minsc. He carried me out of the room, most of the others trailing behind us, Sarevok striding angrily ahead. I heard him bark to Cespenar to "whatever you do, make dinner resplendent tonight". Minsc looked down into my face with earnest eyes. "You fainted. You're okay." Yes, I nodded. We went to the pools and quietly undressed, too tired to feel any inhibition or think about wrapping a towel around us before entering the healing waters. "Ah-aah, and I'd just gotten used to this luxury." complained Imoen. Despite myself, I found myself grinning and my eye caught Jaheira looking down as well, trying to hide a smile. "C'mon everybody, cheer up!" she continued. "We made it this far, I know we can make it out alive. We got this!" "Boo says, it ain't over till the fat lady sings!" "Who is this fat lady?" inquired Jaheira. "A giant space harpy or space banshee, I'll wager" said Sarevok, rolling his eyes. "I don't know, it's just something Boo says when things look grim. It always cheers me up, doesn't it cheer you up?" I laughed. "Maybe a little" I responded and laughed again at the absurdity of it all. 

After the indeed resplendent dinner we sat back, our hands wrapped around warm beakers of sweet mulled wine. "If the company permits me, I would like to sing a song." said Haer'Dalis and picked up his lute from behind his chair, not waiting for an answer. Our eager faces were enough encouragement anyway. He pushed his chair back a little bit creating some distance between him and his audience. Ever the sensational entertainer, my bard, I mused, watching him hungrily. He looked especially brilliant when performing, as though haloed by a charismatic aura. He rested his lute on the leather-clad knee that was propped a bit higher by the chair's leg-support and busied himself strumming and tuning his instrument for a short while. Finally, he looked up, his eyes only for me and said: "A song for my lady."

"If you search into my depths  
you will stir my dreams back to life  
And if you look into my heart  
I will take you in my arms

How can I make it clear to you  
that I would die for you?  
I'd gladly give my life to you  
Ending and beginning - all of it is you

No matter how much pain I'm in  
I'd never be able to strike you off my map  
I'd give up my life for you  
Ending and beginning - all of it is you

Why did you wish to change me,   
to dull the brilliance of my blue?  
If only you speak to my mountains,   
my loneliness will listen.

What words must I use to make you understand  
that I would die for you?  
I'd give my life to you  
You're the end and new beginning - everything is you

No matter how much pain I'm in  
I'd never erase you from my map  
I'd give my life to you  
You're the end and new beginning - my everything is you"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _The song used in this passage is not my own creation, but Yianna Terzi's "Oniro Mou" and can be found on YouTube. The Greek to English translation of the lyrics used here is mine. I fell in love with this song and thought the line about dulling "the brilliance of my blue" matched Haer'Dalis very well because of his signature silvery-blue hair. To me, that verse used in this context is meant to signify the struggle he went through changing while in this relationship._


	10. Destination

**Day 438, Pocket Plane**

We chose our vestments and armor carefully, took only the necessary weapons with us and packed everything else away in the Plane's storage boxes. I thought of so many mythical weapons and historical relics turning into dust and shook my head in dismay. We filled our two bags of holding with whatever gold we could fit on top of our healing potions and battle rods. Half a million gold coins would be siphoned into a void of nothingness. Gold weighs a ton. Coin is heavy, both literally and metaphorically, it seems. There was enough coin here to build a city and keep it fed for at least a decade and I was being forced to see it destroyed. It made me throw my head back and laugh like a madwoman. "Careful now my love, you are on your way to becoming a Sinker, and then what will this reformed sparrow, this ex-Doomguard do?" "Have no worry, for I am not enjoying this at all." I responded, with more solemnity than his obvious attempt to cheer me merited. 

Cespenar flitted around me silently, his usual constant babble and chatter ceased. I lowered myself to his height and looked into his bright little eyes. "Cespenar? You cannot stay here, you understand, right?" The imp squirmed and fussed as I tried to hold its face in my hands. "Stop struggling, hear me out. Father held you in service for much too long. He should have released you before he died. I am ever so grateful for everything you have done, but now it is time to part. I formally release you, Cespenar. Go find your own kind, live your days with them, not under the yoke of anyone this time around. I am sorry I kept you here, but thank you for guiding me. I wouldn't have made it without you." The little creature looked terrified. "Cespenar free? Does not know his own kind, he doesn't, only the God. You go fight and win, come back here." "No Cespenar, this place will disappear either way, you cannot stay here or you will die. I am releasing you from service, you are free to go." The imp paused, not answering for a little while. Finally, he said: "If Cespenar truly free, then let Cespenar stay behind and die. Cespenar tired. Cespenar doesn't know anything but the Great One, this place and limbo. Miss you he will. Are you sure you're not coming back tonight?" I shook my head no. "I do not know what will happen. All I know is that if you stay here you will perish, like everything else we have built in this ugly yet beautiful little place. Is this what you wish to do with your freedom? You need to be sure. _I_ need to be sure." "Cespenar stay behind and be free of service. Meet father in the Plane of Dead Gods maybe? Cespenar was _glad_ to see you again Master. Be happy you must." I hugged the small creature close to me, he felt lighter and more fragile than I had expected. Like a little bird, there was no substance to him but a ribcage and a madly beating heart, it seemed. He smelled of sulfur and burnt-down birchwood. I felt the tears coming and had to fight them back. 

I heard a low sobbing sound behind me and turned to find Imoen's face filled with tears. I wordlessly twined my fingers with hers and led her towards the gaping portal, forcing her to not look back. "Are you with me?" I whispered. "Till the end." she replied between sniffles. I heard Haer'Dalis singing a familiar battle song from behind, his voice first low then slowly rising to boom in the cavernous central hall. Minsc joined him, off-key but with loud conviction, the two of them making the temperature of our blood rise and our bodies gear for battle. "We are ready." I spoke to the portal as it tried to bar us from entering and it submitted to the decisiveness of my call. 

**Day 448, Forest of Tethyr**

She was relentless. A coward, for she hid herself to replenish in the stolen essence three times before suffering a fourth defeat at our hands, but a relentless coward indeed. At times, while she cowered away to regain her powers I almost felt like giving up, but the ghastliness of our surroundings in the Abyss kept me pushing forward. Before our final battle, everyone looked exhausted and about to keel over. We could find no reprieve, no rest, were not allowed sleep, tormented by an endless onslaught of demons every time we huddled together and tried to close our eyes. We were more battle-weary than we had ever been, but all of us were still alive. I did not believe we could stay alive for one more battle however, unless we rested. Desperate, I fished into my scroll case for an old contract, a pact made when I released the prisoners from a strange device in the Underdark, close to Ust Natha. I concentrated my willpower and spoke, slowly tearing the thick paper in two:

"As dries the dew,  
so wishes come true.  
The time for waiting is through,  
let our contract be true."

A great Noble Djinn appeared before me. "So it shall be, and then I'll be free." he confirmed.  
I focused my weary mind, trying to ensure my wish was worded with as little room for interpretation as possible.  
"Replenish mine and my allies' arcane, clerical and physical energies as if we have had a full day's rest."   
"Your wish shall be realized immediately. Farewell, savior."

Rested, I felt a great bubble of joy rising up in my chest. We had cut off her last source to the essence. We knew this was going to be the final battle for there was no more energy to tap into for her, and I knew in my heart that we would win. I smiled at my companions triumphantly as I started casting spells, raising up barriers and protections for each and every one of them. "Ah, it is good to be back" I laughed, my fingertips crackling with magic energy once more. Jaheira and Imoen smiled back at me as they chanted their own prayers and incantations. 

Melissan's body turned to dust almost immediately after she drew her last breath, the essence that was too much for a mortal body spilling out of her in a mad whirl and dancing forcefully towards me. It came into my body with great force through every orifice - my eyes, nose, mouth, ears, were suddenly filled with an immeasurable energy. For a moment I felt like I was going to die as I could no longer draw breath, then as the essence slowed down, its last remnants trickling inside me at a slower, less violent pace I found myself floating slightly off the ground, breathing again, yet breathless at the same time.

The Solar appeared and smiled. "The time that was mentioned has come, Godchild. There is a choice before you... you have prevailed against all that have assailed you, and now, you must decide your fate."

I had the freedom to decide? Hope filled my chest only to be crushed by doubt. Some choices were only between the lesser of two evils after all, I mused, thinking back to the Thieves' Guild and Bodhi back in Athkatla. 

The Solar turned her attention briefly to Imoen. "Only one other spawn of the dead God remains... The sibling who fought at the victor's side. Your portion of the essence is not large, child, but you still must make a choice. Do you intend to keep your share of the essence? Or do you surrender it to your elder sibling?" 

"I surrender." Imoen said solemnly. "I would have done so much earlier had I the choice to do so. I never wanted this, and would lay down my life for her so..." her voice trailed off, golden essence already flowing out of her and into my body. I tried to focus on her share of divinity, steal a glance into her soul, like Sarevok had managed to do when she resurrected him as selfless and guileless as she had always been, but found myself unable to. The essence inside me had come from too many people, none of them were distinct any longer. I started to feel myself becoming distant, the pleasures but also the pains of existence slowly loosening their bonds on my body. 

I heard the Solar's voice again, far away yet near, forcing me to focus. "You must now decide what to do with the power you have gained Godchild. I bid you take care - the choice is irrevocable."  
"What is happening to me?" I asked in a daze, my floating body no longer feeling properly my own. 

"You are ascending to Godhood, of course. You have fought against the taint of your father with great vigilance. It is most impressive... Impressive enough that I would be willing to stay by your side. The power you may claim will bring new enemies and the attentions of evil Gods for it is evident that you will be a force of goodness to be reckoned with. I will fight by your side as your celestial warrior and help you achieve whatever destiny awaits in the planes. Your future is unknown even to the Gods, although it will certainly be a great one." I felt strangely connected with her, her pledge to my cause creating a mysterious bond that felt pleasant and peaceful. My mind was growing hazy and I found it difficult to concentrate on who I was.

"I always knew this day would come..." I heard Haer'Dalis say, his voice too sounding both near and far away. Somehow, even in my stupor I could still pick up the pain and sadness in his voice. "'Tis the day I've always feared. Oh, my raven... What will this bard do...?" His anguished voice registered, and I could suddenly hear as well as _feel_ a part of me inside screaming for freedom. I urged myself to find my voice, I needed to ask her about the decision she mentioned. It implied choice... Where was it? Why was I made to feel this way? I opened my mouth to speak and for a while no sound came out. It suddenly all came rushing back to me, his words about the day of parting, his talk of the inevitable, the third act that would not come... It all clicked into place like a puzzle I had been too blind to see. He had been foreseeing this day for months, fearing the day that I would claim my so-called destiny. I struggled to find my voice again, my mind hurting with the effort.

Haer'Dalis having broken the spellbound silence I could suddenly hear my other companions.   
"No! Oh say it is not so! We will no longer fight evil together? Oh... Boo will miss you, Divina. Forever shall we hang our heads in sadness in remembrance of our great butt-kicking friend."   
"Come back sister of mine." _Brother..._ "Live the life you wish, remember what you taught me..."  
"So it has come to this, huh? After everything we've been through together. Me... I'll miss you if you go... You're more than a sister to me... I owe ev--" _Sister..._

I could not possibly hear another word of this gut-wrenching exchange. I felt my lungs gasp for air and my voice surged back to me.

"You said I had a choice. Give me it now. I wish to remain mortal, sheltered from the eyes of Gods, free from their meddling in my life. Free to truly live. Is it possible?"

"If this is what you wish... Then you will once again be made mortal... free to continue your life with a destiny of your choosing. The manipulations of Gods will no longer be your concern and your soul will be untainted. Bhaal's essence will be sealed in Mount Celestia, unable to influence the affairs of mortals any longer. Of this I can assure you." 

"Then I relinquish my divinity to you. I wish to live life as a mortal."

"Thy will be done then... You have done well. Freedom shall be your reward."

I felt my body slowly sinking to the ground, my feet softly touching on tiptoe and then finally feeling grounded once more. A searing pain burst momentarily in my chest as the bond with the Solar was severed and the divine essence poured out from within me like so many grains of golden sand, gathering into a huge ball in her hands. 

"Live well, Divina of Candlekeep." she said before transporting us back to Amkethran, finally addressing me by my name. 

Over the last ten days we have made our way to the Forest of Tethyr, escorting Jaheira before we had to part ways. Her power had grown to such extent during the course of our travels together that she had rightfully claimed the title of High Druid, a title only accorded to a single druid across the realms at a time. She had seen my quest to the end, but her duties and the responsibilities involved with her new position meant that our time together had come to a close. 

"It seems my promise to Gorion is at last at an end. It will be... difficult to watch you leave the forest as we say goodbye. Beyond being a friend... you are my last link to a life with Khalid. But you hardly need my guidance any more. Gorion would be proud of you, Divina. I know he would." I nodded wordlessly, hugging her close. She pressed her face close to my ear and whispered "And if you can't find a druid, an apothecary will also do. Outside the cities, a shaman too. This is what you will need." And with that she slipped a paper into my hand. I looked at it to find a recipe and burst out laughing. "Thank you." I said. "Well, you grew up without a mother in a monastery," she responded, raising her eyebrows and shaking her head. "a crucial part of your education as a woman was missing. ...If I did well to fill in the void, I am glad. And for the times I was too forceful, I ...am sorry." "You were perfect." I responded, hugging her tight.

I didn't have the heart to be the one to turn around and leave so I just waited, rooted on the spot until she finally turned away from me and transformed into a magnificent wolf, vanishing quickly into the forest. After I was sure she was gone, I finally broke down in tears. Minsc's large arms were swiftly around me. "You know, Minsc can never go back home. We have lost our wychlaran, but we have an archmage to protect. Boo and Minsc will always be by Divina's side!" I forced myself to stop crying and took Minsc's face in my hands. "What are you saying Minsc? Bards are singing our praises up and down the realms! Your name is now immortal! You can always go back if you wish, the Great Halls of your home are open and waiting for you to hear of your great exploits and to fete you with a hero's return!!!" "Boo says you are too clever for Minsc. But Minsc would still like to travel with you if you will have him." I nodded quietly, pressing my nose in his great chest, allowing myself to break down in tears once again. 

 

**Day 544, Waterdeep**

We have made our way to the city of my dreams and it is as splendid as I always thought it would be, the city life - and ours with it, rich and joyful. My tiefling has also fallen in love with Waterdeep, despite its relative order. There are mysteries aplenty to set his imagination ablaze - masked Lords for one, not to mention guild wars and deadly - literally sometimes - competition among the countless entertainers and their patrons. Moreover, there are vibrant markets - a cause for joy for both of us as we share a great love for the "lifeblood" of the city as he likes to call them. The rich culture, the seemingly constant parade of festivals throughout the year, have kept us rooted here for nigh three months. Not for long yet, though, even as I see it in his eyes that he too would like to linger. We have been gathering keys, keys for portals, and readying ourselves for planar travel. We are born travellers the sparrow and I, no place to call home but each other. We hunger for adventure, new sites, new locales. It isn't always easy though. Sarevok has made it clear to me he will not be joining us on the next leg of our adventure. 

"I told you back then, did I not? That there are amends to be made. That I have to use this second chance I have been given to make things right." he told me on the day we found a key to Sigil - at least we were rather certain it was a key to Sigil - and he saw my eyes shining hungrily as I grasped it in my hands. It was a simple cloth pouch, no gem this time, nothing could indicate its value to the untrained eye, but the sparrow has been diligent in teaching me about planar travel little by little and I am quickly becoming more adept at picking them out than even he now - hah! - but then again, I have always been the better of his in learning new spells and all kinds of tricks. 

"Yes, you told me," I said, clutching the pouch against my chest as if for protection, bracing myself for what he would say next. "I just didn't expect it to mean we would part ways." He sighed heavily, this clearly as difficult for him as it was for me. "There are no amends to be made where you are going. And if you are leaving, someone has to pick up the mantle." He grabbed my head roughly and kissed my forehead. "Who better than your older brother?" "So, what is your plan, exactly?" "Start out for Kara-Tur... Make a grave for Tamoko. We shall see from there." I nodded. "When are you leaving?" "Tomorrow." I looked down at my hands in shock, feeling my face go pale. "What do you say, you wanna come with me, little one?" he said towards Imoen. "Oh, don't you dare do this to me! Not both of you!" I wailed selfishly, not even giving her the chance to answer for herself. She burst out laughing. "You won't get rid of me that easily, dontcha know? I think I told you that once already, when you sneaked out of Candlekeep, thinking you could escape me. Nope. You can't!" I breathed a sigh of relief. Sarevok just nodded quietly, making my relief vanish as quickly as it had come, to be replaced with guilt. 

The next day at the harbor he gave me a hug that lifted my feet off the ground and kissed my lips goodbye. "Be safe out there, you hear? I have no idea what's out there..." he turned to Haer'Dalis: "Make sure no harm comes to her at the Godsforsaken place you call home. Nothing I've heard about it makes me comfortable, and she has too strong a will, this one. Don't let covetous eyes prey upon her." Haer'Dalis laughed his low, purring laughter. "As you say brother. Though I would have hoped you knew she can take care of herself, aye? Have faith in her" then seeming to think better of it, he added: "...but thank you for putting some of that faith in me. What I can promise for certain is that I will make her delirious with happiness, for as long as I draw breath." With that, he bowed with his usual flourish, causing Sarevok to roll his eyes and shake his head. He turned his attention back to me. "Sister... if I ever become a man that finds faith, I will pray daily to see your eyes again." I nodded and fell into his arms once more. "I will be praying too" I whispered. "I've heard it said that eyes do not change their color, only their way of looking. May it be that if you lay your eyes upon me again they will still look at me the same way" he said, his voice breaking. "What are you saying? Of course I..." but he released himself from my arms and turned around quickly, boarding the ship that would take him out of my life forever.

 

**Epilogue**

I saw another side of my sparrow in Sigil, stronger, more confident and self-assured, knowing his way around every back alley as well as noble ward. He guided me elegantly and efficiently, not allowing me to appear like the wide-eyed "berk" I really was. Soon, we all became accustomed to the strange city and once comfortable enough we started looking for Saalyn. Only the sparrow looked stifled, the Bird Cage exerting a strangely heavy toll on his disposition. When I finally asked him what was wrong, he told me he missed the "brilliant azure shade of the sky", the sun in the daytime, the stars and the moon at night. He was growing moody and irritable by the day, the Cage unable to hold him for much longer. We had to find his sister fast, for his elven heritage, clearly stirred wide awake during his time on the Primal Plane could no longer stand the closed tube that was Sigil. Or perhaps it was the poet in him, I mused, for which artist could live without the moon and the stars? I communicated my thoughts to him only to hear more frustration piled on top of his agreement: The Planes were too predictable, ranging from great order in some, such as Mechanus, to great chaos in others, such as the Abyss, but never really allowing for the pure, true chaos that comes with unpredictability, when everything blends together to create things anew each day, free from the bonds of planar edicts of law, neutrality or chaos. Yes, Sigil had that blend, which was why he had always returned... but now it no longer sufficed. True freedom meant Toril, he said. 

We found his sister unexpectedly one night inside a filthy little tavern, as healthy and whole as she had always been, working as the personal bodyguard for a well-respected Anarchist. When we related to her the events that transpired at the old Bhaalist temple with the wraith, she laughed so hard that tears came out of her eyes. She looked genuinely happy to see her brother worried over her, but also quick to tell him to stop being sentimental for she was strong enough to take care of herself. "That one in your company looks particularly weak though" she added as an afterthought pointing a finger at me. "Oh, you would be surprised dear Saalyn. You just have to take my word on it for that. One thing I will only say for other names would surely mean nothing to you: Demogorgon. And no more shall we discuss this, lest we draw his attention upon us." Saalyn paled. "I see" she said, rubbing her chin. 

We left Sigil quite soon after that, nothing binding us there any longer. We burnt most of our keys plane-Jumping, Haer'Dalis keeping his promise to show me the Planes, but I could see a hunger for Toril in his eyes even in the most mystifying of places. At least they were mystifying to me... The last place we visited before returning to Toril was Arborea, and unlike our short stays on other Planes, we decided to stay a while and enjoy its plentiful bounty of experiences and food. Minsc wanted to go on a pilgrimage to Olympus, trying to find heroic demi-Gods if not the Pantheon itself. Imoen went off on her own pilgrimage to see the greatest ocean, Aqualor, and marvel at its sight from the edge of the world. We had agreed to meet in exactly three months' time to make our way back to Toril. Minsc came back on the agreed date, but Imoen did not. I went crazy with worry, thinking the ocean may have swallowed her, thinking back to my time in the air-filled cavern after the fiasco with Saemon and the Githyanki. I finally caught sight of her pink hair in the early hours of the next morning. She was riding a Pegasus, a white-haired person behind her. "I am sorry, I am so sorry!" she exclaimed, seeing my sleepless and drawn features. "We had to borrow this one to make it back on time!" she said, petting the Pegasus on the nose. "I was afraid you were going to leave and I wouldn't get a chance to see you..." "I would never leave without you!" I protested, smiling with relief, then caught the pained look in her eyes and the smile drained from my face. "This is "Lithanial" she gestured to her white-haired companion, a fair, seemingly genderless quixotic being with large blue eyes and a face without clear expression. "We fell in love... It is... different, but I think I have found something I have been desperately looking for." I looked at her not knowing what to say or what to feel. "Say you forgive me sis. I can't go back." Lithanial had not spoken a word, only wrapped a supportive, slender arm around Imoen's waist as s/he sensed her distress. I went to hug her wordlessly myself, feeling the unfamiliar arm between us. I smiled in her hair. "I wish you all the happiness in the world sister. You deserve it more than anyone I know." "No more than you, silly." she whispered in my ear. Yes, probably more than me, I mused, but said nothing. Lithanial touched the center of my chest as if to feel my heart. "It means both 'hello' and 'goodbye' in their language" Imoen clarified. I hesitantly pressed my hand on Lithanial's sternum as well, nodding once in acknowledgement. "Be happy little wildflower." said Haer'Dalis and activated the key, pushing both me and Minsc through the portal with him. I felt regret for not having managed to really get to know the sister that knew me so well, to uncover the layers that lay hidden under her childlike cheeriness, and wondered whether she would remain an eternal, inscrutable mystery to me.

Back in Faerun we travelled a while still, often getting ourselves involved with the troubles of towns or entire regions. Our names and faces were familiar to most and it was often that requests were made for our intervention. We gladly gave it when necessary, our thirst for battle not having been quenched even after the turbulent years immediately preceding and during the times of Alaundo's prophecy. I did not really think it would ever be entirely quenched, for none of us. Sometimes we didn't even have to be approached directly: on rare occasions I could hear supplications when enough voices gathered together in prayer. At first, I thought I was losing my mind, but it only took a few investigations to find out that the problems echoing in my thoughts were indeed very much real. I came to realize that a piece of divinity, a small sliver of it, remained in my soul. Instead of a taint, it had become something else, a beacon of hope for the weak perhaps. Whether the Solar left it there by design or whether it was impossible to remove without my passing, I did not know. All I knew was that I was thankful I was only called upon in times of dire need. Part of our time was now spent setting elaborate theater productions of Haer'Dalis' plays, 'Child of a God' being a particular favourite with audiences along the Sword Coast, while 'Dalis' Inferno' was a great hit in the south-east, Sembia in particular. Having gotten them set up and running, we would return back home to Waterdeep to stay and rest a while in our favorite city.

It was on such an extended sojourn back home that one of the most beautiful early summers hit the northern side of the Coast. The double doors of our bedroom were left wide open and the evening breeze made our curtains billow gently every now and then, letting in the scent of jasmine that was growing downstairs, in the garden outside our front door. The evening was particularly starry and bright, a thin crescent moon hanging in the sky - Haer'Dalis' favorite type of night. Preparations for a festival were raging in the city streets even at night, and from the corner of our street we could hear a group of travelling musicians playing music and people laughing. Haer'Dalis blew out the candle on the desk of our bedroom and pulled me close, smiling and kissing my neck. He then led me into a mad barefoot dance that left me breathless and reminded me of our first dance in Athkatla, the night before we joined our bodies for the first time. 

We fell on our bed panting and laughing. I tugged at his thin linen nightshirt, pulling it over his head and pushed him back with both hands to take a look at his naked, beautifully toned, trim chest and abdomen. I bit my lip and smiled at the sight. "You are beautiful" I said. His eyes bore into me, dark and more serious than I expected. He pushed his nose against mine once, as though in animal greeting, then fell on my lips ferociously. I returned his kiss with just as much ardor, the mingling of our breaths and the maddening connection of our mouths making me lose sight of where my body ended and where his begun. I let out a whimper when he pulled back to gather my nightshift over my head and to throw it to the floor. My hands reached towards his undergarments in order to unlace them, but he was quicker, shortly having them join my shift on the floor. His fingertips traced up from my hands to my shoulders and then found their way to my back, pulling me up slightly from the mattress as his own body leaned closer, his chest making contact with mine. "We are of one heart, do you feel it?" he murmured, looking into my eyes. I nodded and he pushed his face into my neck, sighing deeply. I kissed his hair, then his ear, letting my tongue gently travel the edge of skin and followed it naturally to the sensitive tip, making him shiver. I heard his sigh melting into his beautiful, deep, purring laughter. I felt his hands running softly from my shoulders down my breasts, ghosting my nipples in a way that made them rise in anticipation in the night breeze, then felt his warm palms resting on my lower belly. His slow, deliberate movements and the seriousness of intent in his eyes which looked a molten black made me desire him even more. I started feeling a dull, throbbing ache between my legs and lifted my head off the pillow, desperately needing to find his lips and kiss him as he was still looking at me. He lifted his face slightly higher, nimbly avoiding my kiss while at the same time shifting his body enough to let me feel his hot shaft on my sex. A whimper of pure frustration escaped my lips. I tried to push myself against him but found myself immobile, his warm palms still on my lower belly. He leaned in to kiss my nipples taking each one in his mouth for what seemed like a painfully short period for my aroused body, before finally setting a gentle but deep kiss on my lips. He pushed his nose against mine once more, and I could feel his chest rising and falling quicker, his warm breath on my face more ragged. His eyes were closed as he murmured: "When are you going to stop purging me from your body each morning?" His eyes opened to look into mine. "When will you let me nestle inside you and take hold?" My breath caught in my throat, my heart beating faster, my body now wet through. "My sweet bard..." I said, running my hand through his silky hair. "My body _longs_ to yield to you. Tonight. I stop tonight." The light sapphire flecks in his inky eyes flashed bright at my words, his mouth on mine in a ravishing kiss, his hand pushing my legs open with fervent need, his body thrusting, needing, finding.

It was a warm spring day five years later, and we were running around the garden - Haer'Dalis chasing me and trying to catch me to exact punishment for throwing water on him, supposedly to cool him down. From somewhere at the back of the garden I could hear twin little giggles and Minsc's voice patiently explaining "No, but Boo says..." I was half-screaming, half-laughing, breathless and about to get caught, when I heard a bright, cheery voice outside our garden's door. A pair of smiling, familiar blue eyes peered out at us from above the fence, the lower part of the face hidden behind the thick, grey stonework. 

"Heya!" the voice called out. "It's me, Imoen."


End file.
